Beyond hurt
by aWolfAndHerLion
Summary: A few months after being taken as a slave by Esca, Marcus's secret is exposed, wounding his already broken pride. WARNING! MPREG Marcus/Esca
1. Chapter 1

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**WARNINGS**: Marcus/Esca. MPREG as in... Male pregnancy. Don't say I didn't warn you.

**SUMMARY:** A few months after being taken as a slave by Esca, Marcus's secret is exposed, wounding his already broken pride.

I don't own these characters. I'm clearly just abusing them. ; )

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Marcus felt the hands on him before he saw them. His leg, accosted by a pain very familiar to him since his old war injury, was useless, but he kicked out with the other in vain at this rude awakening.

Something was barked to him in their savage tongue from the darkness of the hut, and a quick blow to his ribs quelled his efforts to strike them.

"E-esca," he begged, realizing his once friend was beside him. "Esca, please…w-what's happening? What …what are they doing?" His roman was useless; the younger man ignored him.

And then, they had him. They handled him sternly and deliberately despite his efforts, half carrying him and half dragging.

His feet scrambled painfully in the blade-like grass until he was hoisted up onto a table at the edge of the village. Of course, like the soldier he had once been, he struggled, realizing they meant to tie him down.

No. No, no no no!

A snarling sound hissed between his teeth, however, surprising both he and Esca, who had begun to hold him down.

"Be still," Esca said flatly in a viciously cold tone, but Marcus could feel his fingertips trail softly against his skin. It was meant to reassure him.

"FUCK YOU, Esca," Marcus growled, jarring away from his touch. Months ago, before his betrayal, he had leaned into Esca's touch, needing the comfort to endure the alien coldness of the untamed Northern lands. But not now, as a broken slave.

A vice like grip now clenched onto his jaw, turning his face upward again.

It was Esca, again. But his blue eyes weren't boring into Marcus's. A frailer looking, decorated woman, weathered with age, was appraising him through cloudy eyes.

Marcus felt a shiver snake down his spine as he looked up into the wise but murky gaze. She muttered something, and Esca tilted his face and pulled back an eyelid as if inspecting a horse for its health. They knew something was wrong. He bit his lip.

Something was different; they had noticed. About the way he moved, and shied away from their curious eyes in the daylight.

They would find out today then.

They would find out his secret.

He exhaled in defeat, swallowing despite how dry and thick his mouth felt out of dread. He glanced at the blinding sky desperately, either to avoid the medicine woman's knowing smile or to stare pleadingly at the gods.

They pulled his filthy slave shirt up, exposing his broad body to the prickling wind of the northern valley. He was skinny now, his body still strong but less ornate with bulging ridges and toned muscles.

But there, on his abdomen, was the matter in question that had caught the medicine woman's eye.

Had it been when he was sleeping? So often he would wake in the darkness to find himself curled around his stomach, hands clasped over it unconsciously with protective instincts that had seized him in a nightmare…

Esca's brow furrowed silently as he watched a glistening moisture well in the corner of Marcus's clenched shut eyes.

Was his roman crying, now? After all that he had endured? After having to believe that Esca had betrayed him, and having to be 'claimed' violently by his sinewy pale body before the tribe, after all of this, his strong Marcus was to shed tears _now_?

The sight of it churned his stomach to rot.

The roman couldn't understand the medicine woman. But he must've known what she said when a half amused smile crossed her leathery face and she reached out place both hands on either side of his tight drum of a stomach.

Marcus turned his head away, forcefully glaring at nothing, anything but the woman as she violated his shameful secret.

Her ancient hands smoothed out across the soft curve of his belly, fingering the tightness of it gently.

The Roman didn't blink for nearly a minute. Rage and hot embarrassment flushed his face and ears a deep pink.

But when she finally pressed her ear against his full stomach, hearing the beat of what he knew lay growing in it against his will, he writhed away, twisting to rid himself of her touch, and curled in on himself protectively.

"Leave me be, you fucking pigs," he snarled viciously. But to spite him, an ash covered celt warrior reached out to rub his belly, digging his nails into the skin jeeringly. He was laughing menacingly.

Marcus snapped out with his teeth like an animal, having no other means of defense in this degrading position.

Esca had been silent this whole time, numb to all but the Medicine woman's nod at him and congratulatory hand on his shoulder.

Laughter rang in his ears like an echo; someone congratulated him, something murmured about the breaking of a stallion, no doubt making fun of his slender build and the impressive size of Marcus… his apparently pregnant 'slave.'

One by one, the fellow warriors of his tribe walked away. Leaving him listening to the merciless howling of the northern winds…and the nearly silent tears Marcus was ashamed to shed.

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The sun was just now setting, casting his tan roman skin in a golden glow.

"Marcus," he said quietly, intending to voice some assurance or comfort. But he had none.

What could he say?

What had he _done_ to his master, his friend, and his lover?

He reached out tentatively, noticing how Marcus paused in his writhing for a brief instant, as if surprised at his tenderness.

His palm was just wide enough to gently cover the rounding bulge on the roman's body, as if he meant to hide what he had created. And he rubbed in a slow, soothing circle until he saw that the tears had stopped.

"Marcus, I am sorry," he whispered, sighing slow as he bent over the other man's chest to rest his head.

The restrained man let his head fall back against the table as he mirrored the gesture; a wracking sigh made Esca's head sink slightly.

With his cheek pressed to Marcus's warm chest, he watched the rounding tan belly rise and fall with each of his deep, wavering breaths.

But still, the stoic war hero was silent.

He lifted his wrists plaintively, silently pleading for release, until Esca began to untie his restraints.

Slowly, the taller man sat up, rubbing at his wrists and evasively staring at the marks the ropes had left.

"Are you hurt?" Esca whispered.

His Roman glared at him before reaching out and snatching the fabric of his 'master's shirt. The rough fabric cut into his skin as he was forced to regain his footing.

"Hurt? I am worse than _hurt_, Esca. I think I would prefer _hurt _ instead of what you have made me."

The blonde clenched his jaw stolidly until the roman shoved him off.

And then Marcus's voice became a hoarse whisper. "You have sewn me like the earth, and your wretched creature is growing_,_" he muttered darkly. "It is eating my rations, sparring with my innards, and exhausting me as it turns about while I wish to sleep!" Throwing his hands in to the air, Marcus turned to stare Esca in the eyes. "So no. I am not hurt. I am far beyond hurt." Glancing at his feet for a moment, he sighed and swallowed with his dry throat. "You have broken me."

Esca knew his eyes were wild, betraying his unfazed demeanor, but he still afforded effort toward trying to appear calm, for either his Roman's sake or his own. "There are medicines…"

"To kill this thing in me?" Marcus snorted crestfallenly, shaking his head. "I have tried. I have swallowed bitter mugwort and verbena. This thing still lives."

Furrowing his brow, Esca felt a pang of something dark and sinking pervade his chest at his lover's reply. "Then the Gods will it so."

"The Gods have no hand in this." Standing slowly to combat the dizzying affects of his wretched condition, Marcus hung his head low and began to walk back to his bed. "It is only stubborn, and strong like its father."

Blinking, the Celt stumbled a few steps and caught up with him. "Then surely you cannot deny affection toward something so much like you already?"

The roman didn't bother to turn around. "Its _father_, Esca," he spat. "A damnable traitor I used to love."

Escas feet slowed of their own accord and he sighed, watching the tall, broad man sulk back into the slaves' quarters. The entire village was staring at Marcus as he walked, gawking at the miracle that had taken place by will of the gods.

With his fingertips pinching the bride of his nose, he almost didn't hear the medicine woman approaching him until she spoke in her raspy wise voice using their ancient language.

"Ignore the fire in his eyes, Esca. There is a different fire in his heart... and that, along with the child in his belly, is what is meant for you."

Silent, he turned to stare at her. He was terrified, finally, as it all began to sink in - as he finally realized what he had to do.

"You must go," she whispered, sighing slow into the night. "You must go before dawn."

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**If y'all like it then I *may* continue the story :s**

**Please review! This is my first story :))**


	2. Chapter 2

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**Chapter 2/?**

**Beyond Hurt**

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"How many goats do you want?" Lithian was asking him again.

Esca's mind was reeling. Marcus. Baby. Marcus.

"ESCA," Lithian laughed, shoving him slightly in the shoulder.

The blonde finally blinked, turning to stare at him with the intent to appear lucid.

"You have drunk too much honeywine at dinner. How many goats do you want?"

"Goats…F-for what?" he stammered, clearing his throat. Surely this apathetic guise was not impossible to keep up for a few more hours. At least until dawn when they left.

"Again you make me explain," Lithian rolled his eyes playfully, clicking his teeth in jest, before placing a hand on Esca's shoulder. His dark eyes were serious; "For the rights to breed your Marcus with my own strongest slave, brother. Two strong men to create another, it is a valuable opportunity!"

Bile curled up into his throat, stinging him, urging him to vomit on the spot.

"We shall speak more of this later," Esca muttered, forcing a weak grin, "When my head swims less with brandywine. Tomorrow evening, after the hunt!"

Disappointment darkened the taller warrior's eyes for an instant before he grinned and nodded silently. "After the hunt. We shall talk, then, my brother Esca." The clap on his shoulder threatened to make him waver in his footing.

And then his feet were moving him, steadily toward Marcus's tent. Yes. That is where he needed to go. Right?

"For the rights to breed your Marcus"….

Shaking his head to rid himself of the barraging thoughts, Esca sighed and threw open the tent flap.

Marcus was sitting, his hands bound again, on the filthy floor, staring up at him with a cold glare and a black eye. He seemed slightly confused at the sight of the blonde, perhaps because it was indeed a slaves' tent or, more so... because he'd never cared set foot in there before.

"Marcus, for fuck's sake," he breathed, rushing to untie him.

"You grow alarmed at the sight of my bruises NOW, after you've been beating me in this wretched village for weeks?" Marcus shook his head, snorting.

"Marcus, I hit you ONCE, when you would not kneel before me in front of the others."

"A ridiculous excuse to feed yourself in your guilt," he muttered, "as I starve, on a slave's rations."

"Who did this to you?" Esca whispered. He was kneeling beside him now, tenderly brushing his fingers along the swollen brow before Marcus leaned away from his touch.

"You," he hissed.

Esca clenched his eyes shut, in frustration, shaking his head. Had he really been so convincing in his 'betrayal' that Marcus would reserve only bitterness for him? He had been trying to PROTECT him by treating him like a real slave. So they would not kill him for merely being a Roman…

"Marcus." He pointedly ignored the comment. "WHO did this to you?" he asked, sternly. As he began gently untying Marcus's bonds, it seemed to at least calm some of his nerves.

"Their savage boar of a chief," he spat. "Seems he had heard of my condition and wanted to see for himself." He raised his brows, despite the swelling and the bruises, to emphasize his point.

Esca's jaw clenched .

"I suppose he wanted to have a good look," the roman grinned sarcastically, "maybe feel your demon moving in me. I shook my head, yelled, and got this for my efforts." He pointed at the black eye. "Then I was tied up, and he had his way with his hands."

The urge to vomit was back again, this time with less mercy.

_What had he done?_ The thought was echoing again. _So many times through, he had ruined Marcus_. He sighed.

"Marcus," he said plainly. "We left home for the Eagle. We came here for the Eagle. But I cannot allow us to wait any longer for its appearance. We must go."

The bruised man looked up at stare at him, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the revelation. "The Eagle? It is in this village and you have said NOTHING about it until NOW?" He reached out as if to grip the frayed hem of his shirt again.

Esca's hands clasped around his already raw wrists like iron, making him snarl in anger.

"Marcus-"

"You have lived as royalty while I shared tents with the flea bitten dogs and whores," he interrupted, eyes dark and hooded in his fury. "And worse so, you have ignored me, Esca, until now, and NOW you tell me this has all been a ruse to find The Eagle?"

He forcefully lowered Marcus's hands before reaching out, placing his palms on either side of his face. "Marcus, I have seen you lie," he whispered, pleading that the Roman would understand. "I've seen you lie, and you are awful at it, and I will not risk your life on your own inability to deceive. The bird is of no matter to me now; we must go. At dawn."

"But The Eagle is here," he sighed.

Esca shook his head. "The Eagle…" he began, gently, placing a hand over Marcus's chest, "Is here. It is in your soul, and behind your eyes. It is in pride, and honor. It is not a chunk of moulded metal."

After exhaling loudly, Marcus fell silent for a long moment. "I cannot argue that staying here in this condition is the least of my desires by shall return for it, then. When I am no longer…" he trailed off, gesturing to his middle.

"Y-yes. Of course, we can.. we can return next summer." The Britain swallowed suddenly, feeling his throat tighten in a desperate dryness, and he nodded as if it were perfectly normal to consider a pregnancy into the plans of two men. Oh gods. Shaking his head, he stood. "Marcus, we leave at dawn."

Esca didn't sleep that night. Had he known what would take place in the morning, he may possibly have prayed instead of lay there, useless under his torment of questions.

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**Oh no! What's going to happen! If you like this story, please review. It motivates me to update AND feel less ridiculous about writing this crazy mpreg at poor Marcus's expense baha ;p**

**-AW&HL**


	3. Chapter 3

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**Beyond Hurt **

**Chapter 3/?**

A/n: Thanks so much for the reviews you guys :) Special thanks to Voler Libre, Cub22, and Feathermask.

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It should have been predictable to Esca that even as a slave, an apparently pregnant slave, Marcus Aquila was a Roman at heart and would never miss the opportunity to do something absolutely stupid in the name of his country.

It therefore should have been predictable that Marcus would not be in his bed in the few minutes before sunrise.

And yet the empty sight of his bed seized his stomach with a cold clench. He gritted his teeth, restraining himself from sighing exasperatedly. He could not afford any noises, no matter how warranted they may be.

Silently, Esca backed out of the slave's tent, stepping gently over a dog which eyed him lazily for food; upon seeing he had none, the animal rolled back into the dust lethargically.

And then, there, by the Chief's tent and a sleeping guard, Esca saw him. Oh _fuck._

He was peering into the tent, hesitantly, standing on the balls of his feet as if preparing to tip toe like a child. _Child._ The thought struck him uncomfortably…

"_Marcus," _he half hissed, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the tent. Esca began to run as silently as he could, slowing when he neared the guard, and trespassed into the tent behind his ex-lover. Upon his enter, Marcus jumped, then glared at him.

Esca threw his hands into the air silently, motioning for him desperately to leave with him.

The ex warrior clenched his jaw, shooting him a look that plainly said _not without the Eagle. _

The Seal Chief, reeking of brandywine, was snoring ignorantly, sprawled on his mat like a bear with his blackened feet hanging off onto the dirt floor.

All along the walls, hideously painted masks gawked imploringly back at him, their shadowed eyes taking life in the darkness to follow him across the tent, as if knowing Esca was intruding.

The Britain shivered slightly, looking instead at Marcus and wishing he would simply give up on that damn metal bird and ensure they left this village WITH their heads attached.

The Roman was searching the room just as intently, silently lifting robes and skins around the disheveled room. For a moment he lost himself in thought and nerves, and one single hand ghosted toward his middle, coming to rest on his belly.

Esca froze - a stray skin suspended in his hands - and continued to stare. How long had _that_ habit been going on?

But in an instant, Marcus realized what he'd been doing and retracted his hand as if bitten, going so far as to stretch it and clench it into a fist to shake the feeling.

Esca swore he saw him shaking his head as he turned toward the farthest wall… until he discovered a flap in the back of the tent. Before he could protest, Marcus had slipped through the flap, disappearing from his sight, and his stomach lurched, urging him to follow.

Biting his lip, Esca continued through the farthest wall into the hidden compartment, glancing back periodically to be sure the chief still slept. His hand was ready on his knife.

In this small adjacent room, ceremonial attire was hung delicately on a wooden bust, and gold jewelry and wrist cuffs surrounded it on a hammered tray. With no history of mining for metals like these, Esca knew the Seal People had only come across these treasures through encounters with travelers.

The kind of encounters where no one ever sees or hears from the travelers again. It was a grim thought, indeed. Thus, as a stolen bounty, if the Eagle were in this filthy tent it would be here, and Marcus must have known it. Perhaps it called to his Roman blood and heart. Esca wouldn't put romans above believing such things, he thought as he rolled his eyes.

There would be no chance of impeding Marcus from his goal now.

Minutes crept by. The light from under the edges of the tent grew brighter and brighter… and brighter. Nearly gone was the cold pre-dawn grey. The sun was gaining on them and their pursuit.

And then, finally, under a simple burlap sack, on a small stump in the corner…

The Eagle was there.

Esca sighed, watching him with his wide, awe-struck eyes and shaking hands, as he wrapped the totem back into the burlap and tucked it securely into a shoulder sack, gripping it like iron.

He motioned for them to go, and Marcus nodded, finally following him out.

And just as thoughts of relief began to cross into his thoughts, Esca heard a loud thud as Marcus slammed forward to the hard dirt floor - the chief's hand like a shackle on his ankle and steely eyes boring into him.

"E-esca," he gasped involuntarily, kicking out with his weaker leg feebly.

The chief's weathered hand snaked under the pillow toward what could only have been a knife, and a leering grin appeared upon his face as Marcus lay oddly still. But Esca was on him in an instant, one hand covering his greasy putrid mouth, and the other driving a knife between his ribs.

As he died, the old man sank his blackened teeth into the flesh of his hand, and he nearly cried out, hissing in pain, but did not remove his hand…which muffled a scream of agony. In seconds, the life had fled the Seal Chief's eyes, leaving them aghast and wide but unseeing, and Esca slowly pulled back his hand, revealing broken skin from the bite. He realized finally that he was panting and took a moment to catch his breath.

"Marcus," he breathed, turning his head to stare down at the collapsed man. He placed a hand on his love's back.

His muscles were taut under his skin. Esca could hear his breathing now, pained and shallow, and in an instant, he had knelt beside him, just now noticing the grimace on Marcus's face.

Panic was creeping into him through shaking fingertips; the light seeping in under the tent door was a brilliant yellow, now: sunrise.

Still he calmly spoke his name again in a whisper; "Marcus, we will die if we stay."

The brown eyes opened finally and locked with his; they were wild with pain, and his mouth was a twisted grimace to match.

Esca lent him a hand to help hoist him up from the dirt into a teetering standing position, steadying him as they walked out of the tent. Marcus was leaning heavily on him, walking as if wounded on his middle and fighting the urge to double over – and Esca suddenly remembered now that he had fallen on his rounded stomach.

He did not want to think about what would come of that pain.

And so they walked, completely unchallenged by anyone, through silent and sleepy tents - Marcus limping and grimacing while clutching The Eagle, Esca drenched in the chief's blood - and they walked to their horses Esca had tied at the edge of the treeline. And they left

Perhaps it WAS too good to be true. Perhaps a warrior had slipped out behind them to follow them and mark their trail. In a few hours, thoughts of doubt had begun to pervade Esca's mind, and he would search over his shoulders every so often – only to find nothing and no one. But every time he shook the thoughts of pursuit from his mind, he was all too aware of the immediate situation right beside him.

They had ridden hard for hours. Esca had never seen a pregnant woman ride a galloping horse, and he was sure there was a reason he hadn't. Periodically he would glance at Marcus in...concern? Surely that was not it. Questioning, perhaps. It would be foolish to allow himself to grow worrisome over the wellbeing of something that would surely be cut out of Marcus at first chance.

As soon as they reached a town; he was sure of it - his lover would seek to right the situation through surgery. And then all would be well again.

Marcus groaned out suddenly in pain, gripping his stomach with one large hand. From the pain he nearly slipped from his horse, and Esca had to grab the reins from him and slow the animal, watching him pitifully.

"We will be passing by a rout into a pagan village," Esca sighed. "We need to stop there. Tell me what you feel, Marcus, so that if you are not coherent later, I may speak for you."

Marcus shot him a look, but answered nonetheless. "I feel like my insides are burning, like I am being gutted by a knife," he paused and then lowered his voice, looking at the rein in his hands, "Every time the...creature moves, I feel the blade cuts deeper into me."

At his answer, the blond stared at him. So it _was_ indeed the infant paining him, and not merely a twisted muscle of some kind.

Somehow this news broke heavy across his shoulders. If being rid of the so-called 'creature' was to be right and desired… why did Esca feel knots forming in his stomach and a sinking in his heart? And he wondered, did Marcus feel this same sadness? He shook the questions from his head; he did not need distractions now.

The blond looked him sternly the eyes for a moment; "The town is merely an hour's trot from here, Marcus… We will see a doctor, and either you or I will tell him what ails you… but you will be well soon enough. Be strong, Marcus. For Rome."

The soldier nodded, exhaling slowly, his hand on his burning stomach again, and Esca muttered a prayer under his breath.. for the three of them.

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**Aaaah! What's going to happen! Is the baby going to live? Does Marcus even WANT the baby? **


	4. Chapter 4

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**Chapter 4/?**

**Beyond Hurt**

**a/n: Y'all rock SO much for reviewing! Seeeee how much it motivates me to update? ;) **

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Silence had befallen the two men. The threat of pursuit had been dismissed by hours without sight of the Seal People, and lethargy had set in to take its place. Their horses were walking a slow pace, and the constant whisper of the tall grass rustling in the harsh valley wind was the only sound meeting their ears.

High in the sky, the sun bore down on them, making their eyelids heavy with fatigue. It seemed that whatever had pained Marcus so horribly earlier had lessened… or at least… his groans and winces had lessened.

"We are a short while from the village, Marcus," Esca announced suddenly, leaning slightly to look at him.

Marcus winced again suddenly, as if startled, and glanced down at his middle.

Esca's brows knitted together. "The pains have returned?"

Marcus was silent, merely slowing his horse until it was a length or so behind Esca's.

"You wish to stop?" the Britain called out to him in confusion. "We could take a rest or-"

"I am _fine_," Marcus muttered quietly, "Just keep walking."

Esca stopped his horse suddenly, yanking on the reigns. "Marcus, I cannot read your mind and I grow tiresome of trying."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "If I told you, you would think it ridiculous." He did not slow his horse, letting his own mare pass Esca's in the road. Esca leaned his head back, biting back an exasperated groan, and stared at the sky in frustration.

And then he was stuck, riding behind the moody Roman who refused to explain his strange actions.

"I will not laugh at you if you tell me, Marcus, you know that," he called out. Marcus ignored him. "MARCUS," he yelled.

Marcus winced again, stiffening slightly, before he whipped his head around. "Stop your yelling Esca, it is not as though I am leagues away."

At this, Esca nearly laughed. "Stop my yelling? We are treading in a space as far and open as a sea of absolutely nothing and you tell me to stop my yelling?" He had to admit that at this point, he had merely grown annoyed and was indeed seeking to annoy Marcus as well. "WHAT IF I WISH TO YELL!"

"FUCK, Esca," Marcus hissed through clenched teeth. "It is your BRAT of a child. It moves when you talk. And you startle it when you yell. My ribs are bruising black and purple from falling in the chief's tent, and your wretched offspring kicks them with its feet."

Esca was stunned. He had never encountered a pregnant…person before, and certainly had never heard one speak so frankly about the unborn.

"What?" Esca asked quietly, half unnerved and half intrigued. And an impossible third half… what was this feeling in his chest - pride? Three halves of confused at Marcus's exclamation. "You mean to tell me that it can _hear _me?"

Marcus looked away with hard eyes, refusing to answer. "I do not wish to speak of this parasite, I only wish that you lower your voice until I procure some grape seed and eucalyptus oil for my bruises."

Esca nodded, reigning his horse over until he was riding within arm's length.

His pregnant lover didn't notice until Esca had reached out with his hand, meaning to feel Marcus's stomach.

Marcus nearly sprained Esca's wrist twisting it away from him. "I will break it, next time, Esca, and I would not test my nerve."

Esca was silent until the reached the town, riding obediently far from Marcus for the sake of his ribs and his own wrist. But he was smiling.

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**What's this? Are Esca's feelings changing toward the baby? And what's going to happen at the town?**

**This was just a little chapter, I know. But the last one was rather long. And I'm sure the next one will be as well. **

**AW&HL**

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5/? **

**Beyond Hurt**

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Upon reaching the town, Marcus's mood had darkened to a series of jaw clenched glares and sullen silence.

Part of his rational mind urged him to voice his unease over Marcus's impending decision. He wanted to tell his lover to wait, to consider what it was that had happened to them - without the stress of facading for the seal people as master and slave - to consider that what the Gods had created miraculously may indeed be worth saving.

Or at least worth not destroying it.

Esca had retreated to a flank or so behind him, considering to himself this unspoken dilemma and a slightly darker realization. If Marcus finished what he'd set out to do, and 'fixed' his 'situation,' he would regain his pride… but Esca would lose a _child. His _child, of his own _blood_, would die.

The thought was a fog in his mind by the time they were directed to the medicinal experts of the village; he was actively translating for Marcus, not revealing the problem but insisting that they were in need of medical assistance. And yet the fog was still there, creeping under the closed doors of his thoughts.

Marcus received many stares, if not because of his size and stature - and handsome, regal looks - then because of his obvious unease and nervousness. The looks only served to aggravate the problem and as they were pulled into the medicine woman's home, Marcus's ears had turned red with embarrassment and he sought to avoid looking anyone in the eye.

Clearly, in pregnancy, the soldier had indeed met his match. Esca smirked.

The room they were lead to by an assistant was stark white plaster, and a single table was in the middle. And it did nothing to calm Marcus's nerves.

"You should sit," Esca muttered, debating with the urge to voice his changed feelings concerning the child. He nudged him gently.

The taller man pursed his lips as he pushed himself off the floor and onto the wooden table, feeling the protest from his sore ribs. He nursed the spot for a second with his palm before letting his hand drop with a sigh.

In a moment or so, an older woman walked in, supporting herself on a twisted branch cane. She smiled at the two of them, looking between them both curiously as if she could already sense that their relationship had spilled over the banks of platonic friendship.

"What brings your large Roman into my home, young sir?" she asked softly in her native tongue, Placing a weathered, gentle hand on Marcus's shoulder, she coerced him to lay back.

Marcus immediately looked to Esca for a translation, but the Britain was looking hard at her, intrigued by whatever she'd said.

"How did you know he's a Roman?" Esca sputtered, frowning.

She nearly laughed at his question; "It is my_ trade_ to study people, is it not?"

Marcus was flat on his back now, his hands folded over his middle as he stared at the ceiling awkwardly, knowing that she was speaking about him.

"Look at the way he hides his middle with his hands; this must be a peculiar illness," she grinned, taking his large hands and laying them at his sides, giving them a gentle pat.

"He…He's actually…" Esca began. Clearly he had underestimated how awkward it was to attempt to explain this situation. But she had already begun to pull up his shirt, investigating.

For the first time, Esca saw the bruises. Angry blossoms of black and blue marred his rib cage from his fall in the Chief's quarters.

The woman was frowning, reaching out with her hands to feel his ribs. Marcus restrained himself from uttering a sound until her hands immediately enclosed around his belly, feeling the tightness of it with her fingertips.

Pressing slightly harder, she finally incited a reaction from something that seemed to roll away from her touch. His breath hitched for a moment and he finally looked up at her.

Her brows were knitted together and then she glanced down at Marcus's nervous expression as if it confirmed her thoughts.

She walked away silently, a bit quicker than she'd first appeared, and returned with a twisted roll of paper. She inserted one end into her ear and rested the other against Marcus's stomach.

Esca watched the thoughts turn behind her eyes. She glanced upwards toward the ceiling and muttered something to her self, shaking her head in what was probably disbelief. The medicine woman was almost positive of what the two men knew was true. She felt around with her palm once more but frowned and relayed a question to Esca for translation.

"She wants to know if you feel the miracle kicking you anywhere at the moment," he asked.

Marcus sighed and picked up her hand, guiding it to rest on the side of his belly.

"Ask her… if I can be rid of it," he whispered, letting his eyes fall evasively to the floor.

Esca hesitated before translating the question to the old woman, who replied solemnly; "You need only ask and I will supply a powerful elixir. The gods I am sure would not wish it, but _if you want it_, I will give it to you."

The thought struck Esca through his knees, sending a chill upwards. If _you_ want it. Did she mean Marcus, _or himself? _Surely it wasn't _his _decision…

...Or was it?

"What did she say? Esca, can she do it?" his eyes were desperate, pleading with his own. And yet he realized when he looked up, so were hers.

The idea swelled up into his mind from the chill in his spine.

He turned to look Marcus in the eye, his expression calm - and yet the devious words needed to be forced from his throat through the guilt…

"No, Marcus. She said she can't."

Marcus's brown eyes were stunned, desperately hanging onto his own eyes before his head fell back and the gaze expanded indefinitely into an unseeing expression of shock.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Aaah! I can't believe Esca did that! Was it right? Or was it oh so wrong? I don't even think HE knows… Anyway… Thanks so much to my lovely reviewers! I'm actually a professional artist and I can't wait to post fan art to this. So y'all should review with what scene you'd most like to see depicted. :)**

**-AW&HL**

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	6. Chapter 6

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** Chapter 6/?**

** Beyond Hurt**

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As he explained to Marcus _why _the medicine woman _couldn't _end the pregnancy, the lies had woven so easily, so quickly from his lips, filling his conscience with a deadweight of guilt that had remained with him until even now, when he tried to sleep. Against feeble walls of a tent purchased in the town, the winds of the foreign valley were accosting them from all sides.

Surrounding the pair was a pitch black darkness, a rich seeping darkness that no amount of starlight could lessen. Esca and Marcus lay side by side on a mat as the howling night threatened to strangle the meagre fire Esca had built and used to cook dinner outside.

Marcus of course, hadn't wanted to eat that evening. He'd sat, head in his hands, staring with red stung eyes, straight into the fire without saying a word. He hadn't spoken, in fact, since Esca's reply to his question at the old woman's home.

They had at least received an herb based salve to relieve the pain of the bruises, which Esca had remembered finally as he lay beside the silent Roman.

He crawled out through the tent flap, rummaging in the fire light for an oil lamp and the small vial of herb oils.

When he crawled back on to his mat, the lamp light in his hand cast long shadows across the canvas walls, and he noticed that Marcus was indeed awake and watching him blankly.

Esca held up the vial and Marcus reached for it.

"Let me," Esca said softly. Marcus pursed his lips and debated the question before he nodded curtly. And then, slowly, he peeled off his shirt turning away his face.

Esca poured a small pool of oil into one palm, using his finger tips to gently apply it to the bruises by the dim lamp light. "Do your ribs pain you greatly, still?"

Marcus exhaled slowly. "I have hardly felt them these past few hours." Then he smiled bleakly to himself; "Perhaps I should remember this remedy for my soldiers in battle. 'Have you been wounded? Here. I shall knock you up like a young maiden and tell you there is nothing you can do. Then you will not even notice your injuries."

"A most brilliant plan," Esca smirked, "so long as you can conjure up a story to tell legions of angry wives why their husbands have returned home with babies that look suspiciously like Marcus Flavius Aquila."

For the first time in weeks, Marcus laughed, then winced at his sore ribs. "Fuck."

Esca grinned, "This salve should begin to absorb into your skin, and then you can laugh all you like."

"Good," Marcus smiled playfully, looking up into his blue eyes. "I should hardly aspire to be a humorless grey cloud following you all the way back to the wall."

"Then I would appreciate your cloudy grey shade, Marcus, as your company will always be everything I could ever want on a journey," he whispered softly.

Marcus shot him a look, as if to mock him for his sweet remark, but he smiled nonetheless, undoubtedly feeling a swelling warmth in his chest other than the oil Esca was rubbing into his skin. For a moment, it seemed like the Roman had successfully forgotten the source of his troubles, until Esca's hand was rubbing his skin closer and closer to said source of his troubles - the gentle curve of his belly.

The Britain was biting his lip, and glanced up at his uneasy eyes as if asking for permission. Marcus nodded almost imperceptibly, and Esca's hand swept lower along his stomach, smoothing the oil over the taut skin.

For a few seconds, silence was the only thing Esca could muster, as his thoughts were lost in his actions. He smoothed the oil in a circle, feeling his baby nudging his hands with its feet, and he grinned, leaning forward to kiss the spot before continuing the massage the skin.

"If it bothers you, you may try to ask me to stop; I cannot promise that I would," he said softly, and the Roman stretched like a large cat, sighing.

"I cannot deny that it does feel good," Marcus replied, but then lowered his voice, "As much as I would prefer not to have my body become the joke of the natural world." He frowned up at Esca, moving his own hands to rest on his stomach.

"You will never be a joke, Marcus, you are the best man I know," Esca replied curtly, rubbing gently around his navel.

"It is hard for me to believe myself to be a man if I am in this condition, Esca," he whispered, looking toward the flickering lamp light instead of Esca's sad blue eyes.

The britain thought for a moment, holding the round bump between his hands before leaning forward once again to kiss the very top of it slowly, this time pausing to flick his tongue across his navel. Marcus's breath caught in his throat slightly and he arched his back just barely off the mat.

"You are most certainly a man, Marcus," Esca laughed under his breath like a purr, sweeping one hand up his muscular chest to drag his fingertips lightly across Marcus's sensitive nipple, coercing it to harden under his touch. "And I know this because you are _my _man."

Marcus's eyes became half lidded in the golden glow of the lamp, and he smiled, reaching up to pull Esca closer with a large hand on the back of his neck.

Esca grinned against his lips, flitting his delicate tongue across Marcus's lower lip before licking slowly into Marcus's warm wet mouth.

Marcus moaned in content, using his strong arms to pick esca up suddenly to pull him on top of him until he was straddling Marcus's strong thighs, arching his back toughly to lean lower rub the hardness in his pants against that of Marcus's, feeling the roman's warm stomach, slick with oil, rubbing against his own as the baby kicked between them.

Esca laughed around marcus's tongue, which had dominantly won entry into his own eager mouth, and moved one hand lower to continue rubbing his lover's rounding belly until he felt a particularly strong nudge from inside it.

Marcus gasped out slightly, breaking off the kiss, and moved a hand to his stomach, "It would seem we are not the only excited ones," he muttered with a blush.

Esca smiled, grinding his hips slightly against Marcus's, rubbing his stomach with his own as he kissed him again.

A thin sheen of sweat was appearing on their skin, slicking their movements. Marcus wrapped his strong legs around Esca, pulling him closer so he could latch his mouth to Esca's lean muscled chest.

The britain gasped, grinning blissfully in the flickering light, and leaned his head back, snaking one arm behind Marcus's neck to twist his fingers into his hair…

Outside of the tent, the lost smoldering embers of the fire gave way to the fierce gales, but neither Marcus nor Esca were aware, at least not for a few hours...

xxxxxx

Esca woke to the sounds of songbirds perched in the trees above camp. He reached out lazily in the tent to try to drape one of Marcus's arms about him, but found the padded mat empty except for himself.

"Marcus?" He whispered hoarsely, sitting up and wincing at the light. His body was slightly sore and covered in bruises and bite marks from his Roman's less than gentle love making. Remembering the night before, Esca tried to restrain himself from becoming excited by erotic candle-lit memories… at least until he could actually FIND the object of his affection.

But he wasn't in camp either. The absence of him was pulling steadily at his nerves, unraveling his worries like a loose thread, until he heard the gentle trot of a horse.

Marcus was riding toward him, a small deer - fresh from a solo hunt - was slung over the back of his horse, tied securely. He was grinning triumphantly.

"I would have joined you," Esca said, playing it off as sadness and not nervousness over the possibility of running into Seal Warriors.

"Then you may join me in cleaning it," he smiled cheekily, shrugging. "I wanted to surprise you with real food for once. No more of that jerky from the pagan village…" He trailed off, starting to untie the deer, and added the last bit under his breath; "Our son revolts at its taste."

But Esca caught it and hid his grin; "It's our son now, is it? Not creature, parasite, or monster?"

"We've gone hunting together, I dare say we have bonded," Marcus retorted quietly, smiling.

Esca laughed and shook his head. Together they lugged the deer to an area a few stones' throws from camp, and the Britain took out his father's dagger, beginning to slit the animal from chin to groin.

Marcus gagged suddenly, as the steaming guts began to spill out to the ground, and darted away from Esca and the animal. He began to wretch onto the ground behind a few thick bushes.

When he stopped and looked up again, panting and red faced, Esca was staring with raised brows.

"I do not understand," Marcus called out, shaking his head. He was moving slightly slower than before as he went to sit down, upwind of the smell of fresh blood. "I have seen a hundred fold worse in battle…"

"You were not _pregnant_ in battle," Esca muttered, keeping his eyes on his delicate cuts with the knife. "It's perfectly understandable. I will clean it, and you can cook it as _both _of your tastes desire."

Marcus sighed, nodding. "Thank you Esca."

Esca looked up at him and smiled softly, nodding in return; but still, he realized, frowning when he stared back at the bloody animal... the guilt of having lied to Marcus was still there.

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**Lawlz, I have no idea where this is going. But I will see it through with my best.**

**Please review! :) **


	7. Chapter 7

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**Chapter 7/?**

**Beyond Hurt**

**a/n: Thanks so much for the reviews you guys! They really make my day so I really appreciate them. **

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There was a storm, a fortnight later. An awful one.

The tall pines in the woods that surrounded their most recent camp were creaking and swaying around them in the night sky.

"Do you think it safe to stay here?" Esca yelled after an especially loud crack of lightening. The ground had quivered, as if struck somewhere near.

Marcus was huddled in a corner of the tent, leaning against his pack with a hand warily placed over his stomach. "I would feel less safe trying to leave," he said, raising his voice to be heard over the torrential rain. He was flinching every so often at the creaking of the trees, but was otherwise determined to keep up his stonewall appearance.

But Esca knew he was on edge, and perhaps the baby was too, and he watched Marcus helplessly, knowing there was nothing he could do.

In reality, there was no way they could leave. They had tied the horses under a canvas tarp between two of the pines, but neither could guess whether the poor animals had stayed or if fear had driven them to break free.

But Esca would be damned if he endured another vicious storm in a miserable traveler's tent...They had waited for Marcus's ribs to heal, and in the two weeks of rest, they _had _healed. Now there was nothing left to wait for, nothing to blame for their underlying plague of indecision.

"We cannot stay in these woods forever, Marcus."A loud beat of silence, deafening as it was with the rain, was the lead in for Esca's ultimate point. "And I doubt we can return to Rome…"

The soldier was silent, appearing not to have heard him save for the crestfallen sigh that fell his broad shoulders.

"We cannot stay in Rome," he said finally, "But I must deliver the Eagle myself."

A drum of thunder shook the ground ominously, as if in accordance with the Roman.

"It is dangerous for you to venture, in a city so violent and brutal as Rome, with the baby."

Marcus's eyes flicked up to his dangerously as if in warning. "I am _perfectly _capable."

"You should wait," Esca pleaded.

"Until the thing is out of me and running about?" Marcus glared at him. Esca clenched his jaw at the word 'thing.' He'd thought they were over this. Marcus then began to roughly rummage through his pack, "I for one would believe it to be most safe exactly where it has been determined to stay." His free hand rose to his stomach to make a point, frustratedly gripping the weight of the bump as he searched.

He at last revealed the Eagle from its burlap sack, gleaming somehow, even in the dim lamp light.

Esca stared at it, feeling something akin to hatred begin to boil in him at the sight of it. "Did another Roman not try to poison you before you left for battle last spring, is that not what you told me? The threats of death, and your dogs gutted in your youth?"

Marcus stood up, enraged, "Because of the EAGLE, Esca. Because my father lost it!" With an infuriated redness in his cheeks, and wild, livid eyes, he all but snarled at the Britain. "I was on a mission to retrieve the Eagle when this happened to me," he gestured to his middle. "I did not choose this. You said it yourself that I am _forced_ to see it through."

Esca bit down on the inside of his cheek, nodding dumbly.

He continued, the worst of his rage having burned out."And I understand, that staying in Rome is impossible for the life we wish to and need to lead… but if I am to disappear like my father, then I must at least leave behind honor and not shame."

He sat down again, finally, holding his head in his hands. "Our son will not grow up in a world that hates his family's name…like I did. And I will abandon Rome for _my _lifetime if need be, but I will not _condemn _our son to do the same out of shame."

Esca finally understood - or at least understood that there would be no changing his mind. He walked silently to his side on the mat and sat with Marcus, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, wet from Marcus's red tear stung eyes.

"We will go, _together_," he said finally. "To restore the honor for the family that _was_… and then we will leave, as is best for your family that_ will be._"

Marcus nodded against him, and the britain placed a hand on his stomach, feeling that the child was indeed scared of this terrible storm. Esca frowned, leaning closer, and began pulling back Marcus's shirt.

"Esca, what…" Marcus muttered fatiguedly, trying to tug the shirt back down to cover his tan belly, but Esca had already bent over him, and was nuzzling his nose and lips against the warm skin, humming slightly as he did so.

The Roman sighed and dropped his hands, laying back awkwardly.

"I would tell you to stop if it were not for the way that it seems to calm him," Marcus muttered just loud enough, staring up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Damn you both."

Even so, the Roman began weaving his finger tips gently through Esca's curly hair, and the blond had no intention of pulling away.

Sleep consumed them in an embrace that night, curled together under the canvas tent and violent skies.

**XXXXXX**

When dawn had crept up on their clearing in the woods hours later, Esca was awake already, his nerves about the horses having arrested his fatigue.

And so he sat, upright on the mat, chilled slightly without a shirt, as Marcus slept soundly beside him. He was on his side, one arm still under Esca's pillow, and his free arm curled over his protruding belly with the palm splayed protectively over it as he dreamt.

Esca remembered their conversation the night before, realizing just how deeply Marcus was coming to care for their child, and his lips twisted into a proud grin. With that he gently pushed himself to his feet and left the tent.

And he was right. The horses were gone; they'd fled in the storm, twisting out of their frayed leads the Seal Warriors had hand woven. Esca exhaled loudly, leaning against the still damp pain as he looked around the forest. It was lush, green, untouched… and horseless.

But he could hear the bubbling of the stream they had been bathing in, and knew that any animal would head toward a water source, once they had calmed after their fright of the thunder.

With one glance back at the tent, Esca debated whether to wake him to accompany him. But Esca would be leaping over creeks and scaling damp mossy stone, and while Marcus would insist he _could_ do such things, Esca would rather him not.

Marcus would be fine alone, Esca realized, he was still a soldier at heart and both taller and stronger than anyone north of the wall.

_But the baby leaves him vulnerable,_ a voice hissed in the back of his mind. He shook off the thought, knowing that if he didn't find the horses before Marcus woke, he would panic...

And so he left, disappearing into the dense woods.

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**ZOMG ESCA! YEW GUYZ ARE SPOZED TO STICK TOGETHUR o_0 Who are WHAT could Esca run into in these woods? Will Marcus be alright? **

**And unfortunately, I'm goin' up north for a week to sail around the Great Lakes. NO INTERNETZ ON THEM LAKES no matter how great they are lol. I'll be writing up a storm though, with ye olde pen and paper, if I can remember how to work them. BEEN A WHILE lol, I DUNNO. **

**Please review! **

** -AW&HL**


	8. Chapter 8

**Beyond Hurt**

**Chapter 8/?**

**A/n: I have returned! :) Thanks for all the well-wishes, folks. Sailing was a blast.**

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Esca was making his way through the dense branches when he smelled smoke. _Marcus must be awake, then, _he thought. He was leading the stubborn horses with simple ropes around their necks, and he could hear them grumbling as if they knew they'd be tied at camp again. They were restless, like Esca, and wished to be back on the road.

He would talk to Marcus then, when he returned to camp, about leaving in the morning.

But when Esca reached the edge of the dense brush just outside their clearing, he caught site of his handsome lover near the fire, holding a metal cup of some kind, and the two locked eyes. Marcus was giving him a strange expression, and Esca didn't understand why until he realized he heard someone talking... Someone sitting across from Marcus.

The blonde britain froze, feeling his pulse quicken for a moment as he stood as still as the pine next to him, before marcus suddenly gestured with his eyes that he should join them on the seat next to him.

"Lucian," Marcus called out suddenly, seemingly referring to Esca. As Esca repeated the false name to himself strangely under his breath, Marcus was grinning in a calm expression that only the Britain could tell was forced. "You found our horses, then, I judge?"

"I...I did indeed," Esca replied, awkwardly, turning finally to see their new company. As the blonde stepped into camp, his knife was out of sight but at the ready, with his fingers waiting near the blade.

Beside Marcus sat two men, seemingly worn from travel.

One was rather large, with tan skin and black curly beard strewn with grey that he had trimmed to a pointed goatee and mustache. The other man, slightly younger, was larger than Esca – though most average men were – but not as ominously sized as his darkly complexioned companion. The younger man was paler and wore straw blonde hair flat against his head in a matted mess.

The large man stared at Esca with an odd look, one that Esca would swear was alarm at his arrival, before the expression dissolved and he grinned.

"Good morning," said the dark man, standing quickly to to his feet.

Esca's hand twitched for his knife on reflex and the dark haried man's eyes flicked to it almost imperceptibly before locking eyes with him again.

"I do not wish to worry you, Lucian," he began, extending a hand. "My name is Ikaro, my young ward Jamus and I were traveling with a group and became separated in the storm." The explanation was offered seemingly as an excuse as to why these two men were in his camp, as if they could feel the snarl he was restraining with the better part of his effort.

Instead, Esca nodded; "It was a harsh storm indeed."

Ikaro smiled, "Yes, as Stephanos was telling me, your horses broke free of their reigns and you were just fetching them."

So Marcus had told them he was Spanish. And had borrowed his old servant's name, no less. Exactly what else had they spoken about? "How long have you been awaiting my return?" Esca asked quickly, dismissing any effort to mask the unease in his voice.

"Your friend has been entertaining our company for only a short while, perhaps less than an hour."

They had appeared only moments after he'd left, then. Esca bit the inside of his lip. "Ah, I see."

Marcus had not moved and was staring up at him when Esca glanced toward him, trying not to appear unnerved.

"Is there anything ...Stephanos and I can do to be of service to you, to help you on your way to... where was it you said you were raveling to, Ikaro?" Esca asked pointedly.

"The village of the seal people.," Ikaro said, eyes hardening. "For a funeral procession."

Escas mouth was dry suddenly, he saw Marcus take a awkwardly long sip of his water from the corner of his eye. "Sorry to hear of your grieving."

Ikaro was still standing, "Yes. It was truly a tragedy," he said, "The chief was murdered by a slave in the night a little over fortnight ago." He then looked again at Esca... though without the emotional expression one would expect to see after such a story. Was Ikaro on to them? Was this merely a game with-which to intimidate them?

"And no, I do not believe we need much from you both besides what we have already procured," Ikaro held up the jerky from the pagan town, gesturing graciously to Marcus who nodded. "This should last us until we reach the Seal People."

Esca's feet were stolid on the ground tempted, but forbidden, to shift nervously, "I have never head of this Seal Village of which you speak. Is it far?"

Ikaro's brows furrowed and he glanced back toward Jamus, who hadn't yet spoken.

The shorter man looked up at Ikaro and then to Esca; "We will reach them tomorrow, should the weather not forbid our efforts." His voice was biting and unpleasant. Esca found himself hoping Jamus would not choose to speak up again.

"Come now, Jamus," Ikaro smiled. "It will be a fine trip. My only concern is running into the murderous slave and her traitorous lover."

"The murderer is a woman then?" Marcus asked, brows raising for more than one reason.

"I merely heard that the Roman slave was pregnant, and therefore I presume she cannot travel far or quickly to the wall," Ikaro said flatly, walking back toward his horse on the road. "Nor could she run on foot if being pursued, should her stolen horse inevitably tire and die."

He turned suddenly, eyeing Marcus.

"Surely you can imagine that being with child would be a dangerous vulnerability in a territory like this, Stephanos," he said simply. "So she will most likely be in these very woods... seeking shelter from the swift hunters of the grasslands."

Esca watched Marcus stand slowly to his feet, clearing his throat. "Of course. We shall keep an eye out for her, then."

Jamus stood behind him, walking toward his horse as well. "As will we," he muttered in his caustic voice. Esca's eyes hardened as Jamus seemed to study marcus for a moment, giving him a thorough once over before Marcus felt his eyes and crossed his arms over himself, stepping back a few steps.

The hair on the back of the Britain's neck stood to attention, givin in to the tension that had just risen exponentially.

Ikaro noticed.

"Anyway, my friends," he sighed, "We must be on our way to the coast. And where will you two be traveling, if I may ask?"

Esca opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Marcus.

"We will be staying here," he called out, with that same forced fake grin. "For a few weeks or so. We are in no hurry to return to our mountain village to the west."

Ikaro nodded, "Hiding from wives are you? I have done that many a time myself." The tall man laughed curtly, but it was half hearted and strained like Marcus's smile. "Thank you, again, Stephanos and Lucian, for the reprieve of conversation from a tiring journey."

Marcus and Esca nodded simultaneously and watched them climb up onto their horses to head toward the road. Waving slightly, Esca stood warily and followed the pair with his eyes until he could barely hear the footsteps of the horses... and Marcus exhaled a breath he must have been holding.

His hand immediately fell to his stomach and Esca realized he had been restraining himself from doing so in their company. "I swear to you Esca," he muttered, lifting his eyes to lock with his, "I swear to you that they did not intend to leave our camp...had you not returned." He raised his nervous hand up under his tunic to rub gently at the tightened skin.

Esca crossed the camp to place an arm on Marcus's thick shoulder, "What do you mean, my love?" He rubbed at his arm for a second. "Calm yourself, and tell me."

"Surely you would not stake bets that they were speaking the truth," he whispered, eyes frantic.

"Lying about heading to the funeral with a group, yes. I believe they were. But they believe the murderer to be a woman," Esca rationalized.

"ESCA," Marcus hissed, "Were you to tell a story about a _pregnant_ roman _man_ murdering a Tribal chief, would you honestly leave out the one small impossible detail that makes this gossip extraordinary!"

Esca opened his mouth to speak, but the words were cowardly on his lips and not one would take flight to challenge Marcus's statement. He pursed his lips instead.

Marcus's eyes clenched shut; Esca knew it was true. "They have to have known," he muttered to himself, searching the treeline, "No one would have left that detail out. Perhaps they merely sought to fuck with our nerves..."

Esca's shoulders fell, watching panic grip his lover. His hands were gently rubbing his arms again, turning the larger man slightly until he was looking at him. "We will be fine, Marcus."

"Myself, conspicuously growing heavier with child, _and _still suffering pain in my ribs and bad leg, wanted for murder in a land that already wanted me dead, pursued by phantoms in skins and furs... as we race to the wall with solid gold contraband? And you say we'll be _fine?_"

Esca nodded.

The Roman stared hard at him for a moment, his dark eyes boring into him as if testing him. "How is it, Esca, that you make me believe this?" he sighed in defeat, gaze softening.

Esca stepped forward and stood on his toes to kiss him slowly, lifting one arm to hold the back of his neck. "Because it is the truth. I will let no harm come to you. Either of you."

Marcus wrapped his arms around him with a sigh and closed his eyes, knowing that in the next few hours, they would not find peace like this again. "I trust you," he whispered, tucking his face into Esca's neck.

Esca clenched his jaw at the phrase. He remembered the lie he'd told marcus in the medicine woman's home, the _lie _that was kicking gently between them in their embrace - a lie that would make Marcus vulnerable in a situation that would have been deadly enough to begin with.

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**Eeeeeeek~! Stay tuned folks.**

**Please please review if you get the chance... Reviews make my heart smile endlessly :)**

**-AW&HL**


	9. ART

**Hey y'all! No new update *today * BUT I do have the scene illustration art I promised. The art is from MY favorite scene lol, in the first chapter, when Marcus is tied down. And yeah, one could argue the discrepancies of details lol – not sun rise, Marcus is a _bit_ too far along in this pic, but one would get snapped at by myself for being a nit-pick ;) I'll update soon, I promise!**

**http:/ awolfandherlion. livejournal. com /590. html**

**Obviously, take the spaces out. Can't post a link here, but I can post PIECES of a link here, lol****_ :p_**

**-AW&HL**


	10. Chapter 10

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**Beyond Hurt**

**Chapter 10/?**

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**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the lapse in updating. I've been a traveling FIEND lol. Seriously. Borderline Nomadic. I will try to not keep y'all waiting so long for the next chapters. BY THE WAY, someone asked if they could send me dedicated fanart? It would seriously fucking MAKE my day if I got fanart from anyone. :))))**

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To be fair to Marcus, he never once wanted to slow. On the contrary, he had urged Esca forward, randomly kicking his horse into a gallop that Esca would struggle to catch up with. And though the blond Britain was well aware of how risky this was for their child, he quelled his desire to spit protests at his lover with the thought that – should the rogue warriors catch up to them – all three of them would die.

Eventually, after a moment or so, Marcus would slow his horse, frustratedly placing a hand on his middle as if torn by the urges both to run and walk.

The forest was unforgiving; the trails were still muddy from the storm, and low hanging, water soaked limbs made for difficult maneuvering.

When Marcus turned to call out to him from the front of the trail, Esca was stunned momentarily by a gash over his brow than was trickling blood down his face from where a branch had caught him.

"Esca, do you hear me!"

Esca blinked. "Forgive me, Marcus. Your blood is a ghastly sight to me," he snapped pointedly, "You will need stitches for that wound."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "It is a scratch."

"Then you will need stitches for that _scratch." _

Marcus turned, giving up on whatever he'd intended to say in the first place. "I will have my stitches in Rome," he snarled, kicking his heels into his horse's flanks.

Esca clenched his jaw, knowing Marcus was right. They couldn't stop. Not until they reached the wall.

When the wind hissed through the trees just right, it carried with it the sound of the Seal Peoples' dogs from miles away, hunting them.

To an untrained ear, it sounded as though they were constantly plagued by unseen creatures. Esca wondered for a moment if Marcus could hear it as well, or if he thought it a phantom of his own imagination. But the roman's knuckles were gripping the reigns till they paled white, and he would not allow himself to slow, even for the blood soaking now into his shirt.

So he knew, too, that they were indeed being hunted.

**xxxxxxx**

But when Esca's horse, surprisingly, was the first to collapse heaving in a clearing, he did not collapse alone. Marcus fell to his knees in the muddy field, having stepped off his horse to help his lover. Esca, still tangled in his horse's reigns, felt his eyes widen as he writhed free, clawing at the damp grassy earth until he had pulled himself into a run.

"MARCUS," he yelled, reaching him before he fell back to the ground. He strained to hold him upright, but managed to lower him to the grass gently.

"Marcus, my love," he whispered hoarsely, shaking his shoulder. Resting a hand on his jaw line, he pulled back one of his eye lids to reveal an unseeing stare, then leaned the side of his face over Marcus's pale, wind chapped lips, and listened.

He was breathing. His Roman was unconscious, but he was breathing.

After the initial warmth of relief had been replaced by a second dark sinking fear, Esca used both hands to pull up Marcus's shirt, placing an ear to his stomach.

A faint beating stirred inside.

Exhaling loudly, Esca was surprised to feel his fingertips shaking as he gently pulled Marcus's shirt back into place. And he calmed himself by gathering the unconscious Roman into his arms, dragging his large torso up until Marcus's powerfully broad shoulders were were resting against his chest. And in the dreadfully silent clearing, with not one bird calling from the hundreds of trees surrounding them, Esca held Marcus in his arms...

And waited.

**xxxxxxxxxxxx**

When Marcus woke, he was vaguely aware that the sky above him was moving. He was moving. He was stretched out on his back on a woolen blanket, over an uncomfortably stiff wooden surface. A wagon cart. Who was driving it? Where was Esca?

Immediately, Marcus tried to raise up into a sitting position, only to feel an uncomfortable swell in his head and a protesting lurch from the baby.

"Lie still, Marcus," said a raspy but kind voice. Marcus flinched at the sound, realizing that an old man was only an arm's reach behind him, peering over his shoulder at him curiously as he held the reigns in wrinkled by steady hands. Two mules, lazily flicking flies with their tails, were pulling Marcus and the old man. "Best be ready to hide, should we meet a stranger on the road."

The road was flat and well worn, with tufts of tall grass stubbornly growing in the center between the two wheel ruts. Dense trees on either side cast them in shadow so that the open sky at the end made a tunnel like illusion. And after swiveling his head around, Marcus was certain Esca was not on the road with them.

"Where is my companion?" Marcus sputtered, trying to recall his last memory with uncertainty. There was a haze over his thoughts.

The old man shrugged with a sort of half smile, "He is to join us after dark falls in the valley. So he says."

Marcus stared at him blankly. "Who are you?"

The man grinned to himself as if flattered, "Me? My name is Tallius. I am no one. I am a farmer and occasionally an inn keeper for oddly shapen travelers like yourself."

"You jest at my form?" Marcus quipped, feeling his skin heat up.

The old man did not take his eyes off the road, "Your _form? _No, my son, I jest at the humor the gods must find in sending me another... of that which I should never have seen in a lifetime."

"What is your meaning?" Marcus pulled suddenly at his shirt, as if to hide the obvious roundness on his torso. When he looked up, Tallius was glancing back at him again.

"I do not think you could hide such a swelling, even if your shirt fit as it should," He chuckled. "And certainly not if your hands protect it in your sleep, _which yours do_..."

Upon seeing the frustration heating behind Marcus's weary eyes, the old man explained.

"I live just close enough to wall to speak this language with you now. But be not mistaken, I am no Roman," he sighed staring long down the empty winding forest road. "I will never be a Roman."

"You do not fancy our military ambitions?" Marcus frowned curiously.

The man shook his head. "I have met many exiles from your country, my friend, as many find their wandering ways to my farm. I have met Christian heretics, escaped slaves, and would be emperors who were cast out of Rome and hunted by fearful rulers.. But oddly enough I have also encountered a man with child, who had escaped in the night through Hadrian's wall."

Marcus's lips parted in surprise, "He was indeed pregnant, this man? You are sure of it?"

"I am certain, my friend," he exhaled, an unreadable expression crossing his features. "So you are not as alone as you must feel."

Marcus shook his head, promising himself that he would interrogate the old man on the issue later. "I feel most alone without my companion, Esca," he muttered. "Did he say when he would return?"

Tallius shifted until he was facing him again, "We are heading to my home, just north of Hadrian's Wall, where he will meet us after dark."

"You must know that we are being hunted, then, Tallius," Marcus said slowly. "Myself, Esca, and this child."

"I do indeed," Tallius said grimly, "I had heard of the pregnant male roman slave and his treachorous lover weeks ago through gossip... but only last night did two bounty hunters appear at my door. Seems they were called in from the western coast to track the pair while the Seal People held a proper funeral..."

"Ikaro and Jamus," Marcus realized.

"And so your blonde friend knew you would be tracked to my home," Tallius changed the subject quickly, seemingly to keep Marcus's thoughts from dwelling on the bounty men. "He galloped into the woods with the horses to lead them on a false trail."

"Sounds like Esca," he muttered. But the Roman's hands were wringing anxiously as he sat and stared down the road, and Tallius could see that his words were useless to Marcus's feeling of sudden isolation.

"Do not worry yourself into harming your child, Marcus, from what I understand, you had fainted in the clearing where I found you both. I would not wish you to do so in my care..."

Marcus bit the inside of his cheek and did not reply. _Fainted?_ Staring suddenly at his hands, the Roman tried to remember. He could feel the dried blood on his brow, and he remembered arguing about the cut. He remembered Esca's horse collapsing and then...

Nothing.

An uneasy feeling gripped his gut like a coiling snake, and even the baby seemed to squirm uncomfortably. He had _fainted?_ Marcus had never fainted in his entire life, and here, on the run from savages, in unclaimed territory at the worst possible moment – he had _fainted? _He lay back down against the woolen blanket, pulling his arms tight around himself in embarrassment. How much more of his dignity would this pregnancy cost him?

And what if Esca didn't return by nightfall?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Eeeek! WILL Esca be able to return? Can Tallius be trusted? And why is Tallius risking his life to help them? Can't wait for y'all to figure that one out, it's gonna be kind of a jaw dropper if I decide to go with what I'd originally imagined... Mwahahahhaha!**

**Tune in text time, folks! Please review, I love reviews... They make me grin like a fool.**

** -AW&HL**


	11. Chapter 11

**Xxxxxxxxxx**

**Beyond Hurt**

**Chapter 11/?**

**xxxxxxxxxx**

Tallius's home was simple, not at all giving intimation that he would harbor murdering fugitives. There was a well in the front yard, and a small fenced enclosure with a few goats and hens, and a shroud of trees that began at the road and encircled the home. Behind the meager courtyard with a few woven chairs, were planted rows of cabbage and potatoes that wrapped around the stone patio all the way to the house.

By the time they'd arrived, the sun was low in the horizon, but still high enough to cast long shadows across the narrow stone path into the home.

Though Marcus was over six feet tall and younger and stronger than this man, trust was something lost easily while traveling the wild North, and he could not shake the feeling if unease. Tallius seemed to understand and did not make any quick or shady movements.

"You must be hungry, Marcus," he said slowly after walking into his kitchen and pausing to exhale.

The thought struck him and he could almost hear his stomach growl in response. He WAS hungry. He was ravenous. Starving. Over the past few weeks, he had made a point not to let himself devour their meager rations on the road, though his hunger tempted him to do so.

"Shall I fix you some potatoes and boiled eggs? I am afraid I do not have meat, I was not expecting visitors..."

"Potatoes and boiled eggs sound perfect, sir," he nodded, smiling.

"I shall cook enough for four then," Tallius said to himself, setting about boiling water in a kettle. Marcus thought for a moment, realizing that not only was Tallius cooking for Esca, but for the baby as well and he nearly blushed.

"Um... Thank you," he muttered. Tallius just nodded kindly.

Marcus walked to a small oak table and slowly took a seat, realizing that the action was becoming more difficult as his middle became more pronounced. He watched tallies cook, trying not doubt the fact that Esca was about to walk through the door.

The old man had a superior library, not one that Marcus would expect to find in the home of a simple farmer... Publications by Caesar... Memoirs of Alexander... The republic, gilded in fine gold pages and bound in leather... Resting against the bust if a someone Marcus couldn't recognize.

"You are quite the reader," Marcus said quietly. "Such an impressive library for a man content to grow cabbage..."

Tallius paused while cutting potatoes, still staring down into a large clay bowl. "I have not always suspended my interests between the harvest and the frosts... I have held many occupations... Many positions."

Marcus nodded curiously, watching him now slice carrots pensively. But he stood to reach something on a high shelf, and from the inch or two of skin exposed on his hips, Marcus spotted the tail end of a huge and violent scar.

"Were you a soldier, Tallius?" Marcus blurted in surprise as his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hmmm?" said the older man in confusion, looking back down to the pregnant roman sitting patiently at the tiny table.

"Your battle scar," Marcus explained, gesturing to his middle, "It looks like you are lucky to be living, after a wound like that."

Tallius looked back down to the spice he'd just pulled off the shelf, and was silent for a moment. "It was indeed a deadly battle I found myself in that day," he said, "But I cannot claim to have been a soldier like you must be."

"I _was _a soldier. A fine one, I am told... until I suffered a wound to my leg," Marcus exhaled, still dumbfounded about this scarred, brilliant man who had taken him in. "Tallius. You are an avid reader of republic printings, with an enormous battle scar though you've never been in combat, that claims not to be a Roman but speaks more fluently than any northerner I have ever met... It makes no sense."

Tallius did not take his eyes from the food, but he chuckled faintly, "Alright, alright." He looked up finally, after a long moment, and sighed. "I was an advisor to Hadrian's court."

Marcus's eyes widened.

"I worked closely with the emperor, alongside his half-brother, Senator Lucius," Tallius said blankly, as non-chalantly as if he were announcing the weather.

Marcus blinked in surprise, trying to process the information. As highly ranked a soldier as he had become, he had never once met the roman emperor, or anyone that had worked this closely with him, for that matter.

"I feel honored then, to be in your home."

The older man shook his head, "I have left that life behind in Rome, and I have tried my best to forget it, Marcus."

The ex soldier frowned, unable to think up a response, as Rome and the Eagle had been all he cared about for the majority of his life.

"Why did you leave?"

"It is a dark... and terrible story," he sighed. "I will share it with you in time, I am sure, as I believe it is something you need to know... But I will need time to gather my thoughts."

Marcus nodded, feeling Tallius tension after he'd only mentioned the subject without explaining, and tried to imagine what possibly could have happened in the charmed life of a court advisor to have driven him out of Rome forever.

He hadn't realized his hand was resting on his stomach, while he listened until the baby kicked at it particularly hard and he grimaced.

"You are alright, Marcus?" Tallius asked, the darkness in his features having left. Marcus looked up, feeling tired suddenly, but nodded.

"This child fatigues me enough already and it is not even born," he muttered, making a point to cross his arms to prevent his hands from betraying him in embarrassingly intimate gestures.

At this, Tallius grinned a true smile. "Well, rest assured you will find a safe comfortable bed here, my friend." With that he shut the metal lid on a kettle of seasoned potatoes and placed it over the fire.

Marcus nodded in thanks. "Tallius, may I ask you about the man who shared my affliction?"

Tallius thought for a moment and then answered as he rubbed his hands with a cloth. "I can answer what I know, yes."

Marcus was about to open his mouth to speak when there was a stern knock at the door. Marcus's first thought was that Esca had returned as it was just past sundown, but The knocking continued, aggressively harder and borderline antagonistic.

This was not Esca.

Marcus's breath had seized in his throat but he pushed himself to his feet, looking at Tallius desperately while he reached for his knife. The older man gently placed a hand on his arm, leading him back toward a spare room that was open to the night air through a window but still pitch black.

The knocking continued, this time louder and accompanied by a man's voice, and Tallius shut the door, disappearing from Marcus's view.

Pressing himself against the far wall, Marcus could hear the door swing open, and then the two men conversing. He heard the clinking of metal - a sword at the hip. The sound (and knowledge that the sword was most likely intended for use on either him or Esca) was unnerving.

At the sudden rush of his heart rate, he felt the baby roll agitatedly, kicking now at his ribs and he exhaled silently, glancing down at the bump on his middle. Because no one was watching, he placed one palm against where his baby's head was pressing and rubbed gently in a circular motion.

He could hear them speaking still, and by now his heart was pounding in his ears, but at least the child was no longer trying to bruise him with it's feet.

But in a moment, with barely any notice, the door creaked, being pushed against the lock.

"Let me just get the key, sir, I'm afraid I rarely use this room..."

Marcus reached first for his knife, then, glanced at the open window. After a moment's trepidation, and the lock began to turn with the key, he made his decision.

Tallius swung open the door, revealing a thankfully empty room. Just as the man began to walk toward the window that opened a few feet above the cabbage garden, he called out.

"Can I interest you in freshly brewed Meade for the road?"

At this the intruding man stopped, a foot or so from the open window, the window that Marcus, destroying at least four heads of cabbage in the process, was crouching under on his hands and knees.

Marcus breathed a prayer to himself, that he might survive this night, and after a second, he heard the man mutter a yes and turn back toward the kitchen with Tallius.

Thank the gods.

Marcus moved so he was leaning back against the home, and rested his head against the stone with a sigh. Something told him that when it reached its end...this night would not be one he'd soon forget.

But it happened very fast.

"HE IS HERE," a deep voice yelled. Instantly, Marcus's head whipped sideways in terror, and the silhouette of a tall dark figure was against the moonlit clouds. He reached for his knife, as the dark man at him.

No, he had the briefest thought as he felt another man grab him, however it ended, it would not be a night that he would forget.

...It may not even be a night that he would live to forget.

**xxxxxxxxx **

**To be continued ;) I'm afraid this chapter was boring, with all the dialogue, and lack of Esca, but it needed to exist. You will see.**

** -AW&HL **

**ps. Typed it on my new iPad. For the love of gawd it is hard to get used to typing on those things. If you find some STUPID typo as in "Oh hi esca let's go see a movie this afternoon if you're not LAVA LAMP too busy... " Then I apologize. Because I fricking swear it DOES things like that. Lolol.**


	12. Chapter 12

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

**Beyond Hurt**

**Chapter 12 / 14.5**

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

Where we left off:

_"HE IS HERE," a deep voice yelled. _

_Instantly, Marcus's head whipped sideways in terror, and the silhouette _

_of a tall dark figure __was against the moonlit clouds._

_He reached for his knife, as the dark man ran at him._

_No, he had the briefest thought as he felt another man grab him, _

_however it ended, it would not be a night that he would forget._

_...It may not even be a night that he would live to forget._

Marcus swung quickly with his fist, knocking the breath out of one man, and dug his knife into the thigh of another, but as soon as one went down, another took his place.

And though the darkness robbed his vision of detail, he could feel the tanned hide of the men's clothing, could feel the ash on their skin.

So the Seal Warriors had finally found him.

And he was cornered against the stone wall of Tallius's home, three of them restraining him as they called out for the rest of the tribe. They were blowing their rams horns on the road, a deep and eerie sound that would haunt his memory if he could ever escape. There was a club now, that one had pulled from a waistband. They intended to knock him out, making him easier to handle. Nails were digging into his skin as he struggled, snarled, swore at them. But three on one was too great a match for Marcus, 6 months into his condition.

He clenched his eyes shut finally, bracing himself for the club to the head.

But it never came.

Instead there was a swift rush of air to his face, like a sudden gale of wind, and then a large thud, and he opened his eyes as he fell back to the grass, having been released.

Esca was pulling a knife from one man's neck, while in his other hand he had taken the club and had shattered the second warrior's kneecap.

One came at him from behind with a blade, but just as the Britain turned in surprise, a knife sunk straight through the seal warrior's eye, killing him instantly.

Esca turned, having found himself with no one left to kill for a least a few seconds, and stared at Marcus in surprise.

"I see our son does not impede your ability to throw a knife," Esca grinned, giving him a hand to stand quickly. Marcus suppressed the lump in his throat and pulled the smaller man into his arms.

"You were on the roof, were you not?" he muttered. "Creative of you."

Esca kissed him quickly on he lips but was interrupted by Tallius, who was moving surprisingly fast for an older man. His tan body was absolutely lithe as he jumped over a small stone bench.

"Follow me," he hissed, "More of the warriors will arrive at the sound of that damnable horn."

Marcus and Esca followed, maneuvering through the orchard. All the roman could hear was the sound of his own heart racing in his ears. The panting of his breath steamed into the cold night air like clouds of smoke from the fire in his lungs. He had not run in weeks. He felt his legs begin to tire from the extra weight.

But Esca grabbed his hand suddenly, both pulling him and guiding him.

"where are we going?" Esca called. Out to their guide.

"to a passage way... that I pray to the gods... still exists," Tallius replied between panting breaths. "they will follow, I have... No doubt."

Marcus placed a hand on his stomach. Where a dull cramp was beginning to form, but he knew they could not stop.

But at the precise moment when Marcus feared his legs might give way, Tallius slowed, placing his hands on his hips to catch his breath and scan their surroundings.

The sound of the wild dogs was unmistakeable in the distance, a pack closing in on them.

And then finally, Tallius found what he had been looking for. A stone ring was laying in the grass and he pulled it, revealing a tiny but unbreakable chain through the grass, he began to coil in the length if the chain and Marcus and Esca stared in confusion.

And then the slack of the chai. Was pulled taut, and an ancient earthen hatch raised from the ground, covered in a layer of dirt and grass growing right over top of it.

"we are just minutes from the wall," Tallius said to the pair, eyes locked on their own. "there is a ladder, and it leads to an old cellar from a home that was destroyed in the wars between the territories."

All three turned to the sound of the dogs approaching from just through the tree line.

"take this," he said, pressing one candle and matches into Marcus's hand.

Marcus's eyes hardened, "you are not joining us? If you run they will hunt you still."

"I know, Marcus," he said. "I must lead them back through the forest." he turned to run, but Marcus's hand clasped onto his shoulder.

"why do you risk your life for a stranger's?" he whispered finally.

Tallius lowered his voice, staring straight into his eyes before he told him the truth. "Marcus, I became pregnant with senator Lucius's child. They killed him for it, and I left, as part of my soul died with him. But the baby was the emperor's nephew, and Hadrian feared the presence of a new heir..."

Marcus's eyes were wide, "You..."

"Yes, Marcus, like you, I once found myself miraculously with child," he whispered, "but they hunted me like they hunt you... I was...I was seven m-months along," he lowered his voice even more, staring up at the sky desperately for strength as he took a wavering breath in the moonlight, "But I was alone. Marcus, the scar on my skin is left from when they trapped me like an animal... and cut my son from me before he had grown enough to survive."

Marcus's hand involuntarily covered his mouth in shock at the heinous revelation, "Tallius..."

Tallius's hand clasped tight on his shoulder, "They left me to die by the road, but I was found and unfortunately survived," he explained quickly. "And I know now why. I will not let them do to you and your baby what has been done to me and mine."

Marcus felt a stinging in his eyes as he stared into the eyes if the man that would save his and his family's life tonight. "Then may you survive so that this baby may know well his namesake," he whispered.

Tallius's eyes softened for just a moment before he nodded,"We will meet again, my brothers." With that he ran full speed, his determination renewed, to lead them west along the tree line.

Marcus and Esca quickly descended into the cellar, pulling the tiny chain and stone ring in with them to dissolve the hatch's appearance into the earth.

It was empty with cement floors and wood beam walls grown in with roots and cobwebs. But crouched against the wall by the light of one tiny candle, they huddled together, and they were finally safe.

They would rise the next night, and enter back through Hadrian's wall into Rome.

And so Esca, who had not heard the grim and awful tale, could not understand why Marcus was crying silent tears under a hand that hid his brow from the light. Esca kissed his cheekbone gently, nuzzling his face with his nose and lips in question, and the only thing Marcus said quietly in reply was,

"Tallius Esca Aquila."

**xxxxxxxxxx**

**lol, well. I might have teared up like Marcus in the end while writing this. Poor Tallius had a dark and horrible past. But helping Marcus helps him, I guess. I do so hope we shall see him again. **

**I was THISFRICKINGCLOSE to asking one of y'all to beta for me. iPad is insanely convenient, but getting used to typing quickly is... Difficult. To say the least. Ends up looking like you typed it blindfolded with one hand while like... Riding a horse or hang-gliding or something. Whatevs. **


	13. Chapter 13

**XXXXXXXX**  
><strong>I don't even know what chapter this is. Not too many left though...<strong>

**Beyond Hurt**

**a/n: Sorry for the wait y'all, real life is nuuuuuts right now -_- And a super special thanks to FeatherMask for beta'ing this chapter, or y'all would have had to wait another two weeks. And thanks to Draco'sFictitiousWifey (yeah I'm definitely drunk right now, so I'll be as surprised as YOU are if I spelled that right) for alerting me that my first attempt at this chapter had totally screwed up formatting. **

****WARNING*** This chapter has a rather graphic and intimate scene in it. Figured this story need at least one ;D**

**XXXXXXXx**

When they finally did cross into Rome, Marcus clutched suddenly at the Eagle in its burlap sack, as if the totem power of the idol would reveal itself finally. But it did not. Even on Roman soil, it was still a metal figure.

But surely his mind was merely reeling from the past day's events. This was the Eagle. He was about to deliver it to the squadron leader, the son of the man whose legacy of misfortune had shamed a shroud of guilt upon all his later generations. His name was resolved, his ancestry exonerated, acquitted, and redeemed.

And yet a sinking worry in his heart pulled at him. He slowed, just slightly, until he was walking behind Esca, allowing his lover to part the crowd in his place.

The blonde looked at him in confusion; since they'd entered his native land, the Roman had been storming forward with confidence. "Are you alright?"

The question struck Marcus. But he nodded. Was he alright?

The blonde ignored the nod, knowing that Marcus's defenses were on the rise. He glanced back again, and noticed his hand resting on his hip, his fingertips splayed discreetly supporting his belly.

"You are nervous about your home coming?" Esca guessed, peering up at him from the corner of his eye. They were on a street corner now, waiting for a large cart of pottery to finish crossing their path. Marcus shook his head.

"On the contrary," he muttered, "I sincerely doubt my uncle will be as surprised to find me ... like this... as I was."

Esca smirked. "True."

Marcus smiled with him until the grin faded into his nagging thought. "I feel as though the Eagle's homecoming is..."

"Anticlimactic?"

Marcus ducked his head, staring at his narrow path through the thick market crowd. Yes.

Esca pursed his lips suddenly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and jarring him slightly, "That's not a lack of nationalism, Marcus, I would instead call it... rationalism."

Exhaling, Marcus stared straight ahead in annoyance at Esca's comment. They were passing a stand of tiny metal replicas of the very Eagle Marcus was hiding. He stared at them uneasily, wondering why he could not coax his heart into excitement. Had Tallius's story depressed him too thoroughly? Or was it something else?

Marcus sighed, leaning close to Esca's ear. "I've waited 19 years to retrieve the Eagle of the Ninth and all I can think about the moment I return with it... is how soon I can leave again."

Esca blinked in surprise, turning to look at him in confusion. "You prefer the countryside?"

He stared at the bricks, deciphering a pattern in them. "I prefer not worrying about things other than restoring honor to Rome."

"Is something wrong with the baby?"

"That in itself is the cause of my discontent, Esca, I feel as though-"

As if to prove the point, he was interrupted by a scuffle breaking out in the crowd near him. A merchant was screaming the word 'thief' at a particularly scruffy man and was trying to rip a satchel off of him. Esca stared blankly at the two men and continued walking, until the man suddenly lurched into the crowd to escape, nearly slamming headfirst into Marcus's side.

The Roman immediately placed one arm protectively across his belly and reached out with the other to shove him away, nearly pushing him to the floor with his strength.

Esca had removed the dagger from his pocket in the blink of an eye and then stepped between Marcus and the other man, watching intently to be sure the thief was running away from his pregnant lover. After a beat, except for a few lingering on lookers, the consistent hum of the market's daily business had begun again. The blonde sighed, beginning to walk again, though his hands were wringing with adrenaline.

Marcus hadn't removed his arm from his stomach and was now wearily scanning the crowd.

"You are safe now, Marcus," Esca smiled faintly, reaching out to brush his thumb across the back of the ex-soldier's shaking hand.

But his lover pulled his hand away, slowly placing them in his pockets. After a long  
>exhale, Marcus fell silent for a long moment. "I... I did not grab The Eagle... When the thief ran at me, I... I did not grab the Eagle, Esca."<p>

Esca was frowning. "For what purpose? To protect it from the thief?"

Staring at the ground gravely, Marcus muttered; "I did not grab the Eagle, I grabbed my stomach, and that in itself... is the problem."

"Ah..." Esca nodded finally. "So you feel you betray Rome because your priorities have been arrayed anew."

Marcus muttered something in response to confirm Esca's explanation. But the Britain only laughed.

"Then I was wrong, Marcus," he said quietly, turning with him onto the road that would eventually return to their home. "That's not rationalism, that's love."

Marcus rolled his eyes, pursing one side of his lips. He ran a hand over his face, pushing his hair back until he could stare clearly at the road beyond the crowd. He just needed to be home. No more over-analyzing. Home was the cure he needed.

And so it was that the sun was setting when they finally reached their home. It was fitting, Marcus considered as he stepped through the threshold, that the day would end at the same moment as his perilous conquest.

The servants called out to him excitedly, "Master Marcus!" and he nodded politely.

But when his uncle finally stepped out from the courtyard, it seemed that his blue eyes took a moment to adjust to him.

"Marcus... my word..." he breathed, eyes glistening as he reached out for the totem he'd believed reduced to a phantom. Marcus smiled silently, gently placing the idol in his hands, understanding - as someone who had shared the shameful family legacy - why his uncle reached for the Eagle even before embracing him in welcome. This was the Eagle. It should be more important than Marcus, or either of them.

This was Rome.

For a moment, Flavius turned the Eagle in his grip, remembering and relearning the grooves of its feathers, the stern stare of its eyes.

And then he set it down, as if content finally to part with it and his eyes turned in question to Marcus's physique, which was strikingly different than he remembered.

"Are there many opulent feasts in the savage lands of the north, Marcus?" he said curiously, joking with an edge of concern over what could possibly be a fatal affliction.

Esca took this as a semblance of a long overdue discussion and began to quietly step toward the hall when Marcus reached out and placed a hand on his arm, giving him a pleading look to stay. Esca nodded, covering the hand with his own for a moment before Marcus dropped it to his side again, flexing his hands nervously.

"Uncle, a new chapter in my life has begun without my control or consent," he began. "It has caused many a change in my life and myself..." His jaw was set awkwardly as if trying to force ineffable words to form.

Esca rubbed his shoulder slowly, encouraging him, and Marcus stared at the floor for a few seconds while Flavius stared in surprise at the intimate gesture.

Slowly, Marcus's hand reached lower and he pulled up his shirt, exposing his swollen belly.

"My word, this is no excess of weight... What manner of swelling is this?" he breathed, brows furrowed.

Esca watched Flavius extend a tentative hand toward his belly, and felt Marcus flinch slightly at the sight of the fingertips reaching suddenly for that which he strived always to keep hidden.

Flavius paused abruptly, sensing his discomfort, "May I, Marcus?" he asked quietly.

Esca watched him tense as hesitation seized him, but he gritted his jaw and stared out toward the courtyard. Marcus nodded tersely; "You must feel the truth for yourself, Uncle. I fear I could never convince you with words..."

Esca bit his lip apprehensively.

Flavius frowned in confusion and finally reached out with both hands, palming the small but firm roundness in his hands. He could feel that it was warm, and full, and real. And then, beneath his hands... Something within Marcus's belly moved.

Marcus's uncle gasped in surprise, lifting his hands away in surprise. He blinked then slowly shook his head, placing a hand over his mouth in awe as he finally realized the truth. "Marcus, you are...with child?"

Marcus nodded, "I am."

His uncle reached out again quickly, as if determined to prove this a dream, and began to hold the bump between his hands. "Remarkable..." He felt the weight of it as he swayed Marcus from side to side gently with his hands, until the child kicked out in protest. "It is strong. Do you think it to be a son?"

"I do, Uncle." Marcus's face by now was a deep red, and he shuffled on his feet, trying to mask his awkwardness.

But his efforts were futile and Flavius could sense that touching him was making him uncomfortable; he gently pulled back his palms from the warm tan skin, and placed a hand on his shoulder instead. "Congratulations," he said, "For both the Eagle and your child."

He looked at Esca and nodded, as if extending this same praise to him, and the Britain bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

Marcus lowered his shirt quickly and exhaled as though he was relieved to have passed an inspection.

Flavius exhaled and clasped his hands together, "I would imagine then, that you are not staying in the city."

Marcus shook his head, "No. We will be retreating to the countryside, near the wall."

The older man's smile seemed to dim at this, but he nodded; "I understand." He turned toward a servant, asking quietly for some wine, before turning back to the pair. "Marcus and Esca... as long as you both would like to stay, you are welcome of course. But I fear I need a strong beverage with which to liquefy the rules of the natural world which apparently no longer apply!"

The pair grinned slightly before retreating to their old and familiar quarters.

xxxxx

Two months later, the sun was setting again. Not over the hive-like center of Rome but over the expansive fields of the country side.

They had purchased a small cottage with their generous reward for the return of the Eagle. There was one bedroom, a stove on a patio, and a central sitting area with a desk in the corner. The cottage's roof was thatched, and needed a few repairs that Esca had taken upon himself to finish, rather than hiring anyone from the city. Privacy was something that had grown increasingly important as Marcus progressed further in his condition.

Esca grunted under his breath as he tied the last bunch of grass to freshly cut beams. Sweat was running down his forearms in the golden sun, glistening off his pinkish tan skin. Cutting a stray bit of twine with his father's dagger, Esca sighed in relief and stood back to admire his work. It was done. Finally, an air tight roof to shelter his family from the harsh autumn gales.

After gathering his tools in a leather bag, Esca slowly made his way down the ladder to the soft grass and wildflowers growing under the windows. Taking special care not to trample any particularly pleasing flowers, Esca leapt out onto the path and dropped his tools near the door.

There was a pot of venison stew boiling in the kettle on the patio, and it was filling the whole home with a warm, delicious aroma that blew in with the breeze of dusk.

"Marcus," he called out, walking to a small well in the corner. He washed his face and hands in a basin and then slowly set about pumping some water into a glass. After taking a sip, he sighed. It was cool on his tongue, and revived some part of him that had grown weary from the work.

"Marcus!" He called out again, realizing he hadn't yet heard a reply.

He felt the nerves creeping up his spine to his thoughts, and he quelled the panic in his chest.

"MARCUS...?" Esca set the cup down and began walking through the home, first checking the bedroom, but only finding an empty mattress. The tub, patio, and courtyard were empty as well, which he could search easily from the open windows. And then finally, he walked into the bedroom, into the tiny room which opened off of the far edge of it.

The door opened silently, having just been oiled yesterday by Esca himself.

Esca leaned his head into the room, and the sunset's brilliance blinded him for a few moments.

Then, blinking, he could see again the familiar white cot and his tan, muscular lover making use of it.

Sighing in relief, Esca stood in the doorway and smiled. Curled on his side, Marcus was sound asleep – a state which Esca had found him in many times lately as a fatigue set into Marcus's bones from the last stretch of pregnancy.

Creeping soundlessly through the room, Esca came to kneel in front of his bed, content to hear his deep even breathing and watch the corners of his mouth twitch from a dream.

"Hello my love," he breathed in a sigh, gently brushing the side of his cheek with his finger tips.

Marcus stirred slightly, moving his hands unconsciously to rest under his pillow, exposing his stomach.

At eight months along, Marcus's stomach wasn't quite as large as some of the village women's he'd seen as a child, but then again, his hips and back were not made to support the weight of a large child. Esca reached out gently, placing his hand over the tight warm surface of the belly, feeling his baby nudge against it.

As he pressed a kiss to the spot, he felt Marcus stir again, beginning to wake as the child moved restlessly in him.

"Oooof," he exhaled, placing one palm against the top of his belly and pressing. He took a few deep breaths. "Do not excite him, Esca, he is far too big to move in the amount of space my body affords him," he said through the cramp the baby's shifting had created.

His eyes were still clenched shut through the pain and he shifted onto his back.

"Allow me to distract you," Esca said simply, lowering his head to dip his warm wet tongue into Marcus's extremely shallow navel.

"Esca..." Marcus laughed, despite the pain. A tightness was growing in his pants.

"Simply looking at you excites me, Marcus, how am I to resist?" he whispered, straddling his groin as he leaned up to kiss his neck and trail kisses lower in a ravenous fashion, "Especially without the threat of anyone walking in on us in our own home..." He began delicately running his hands along the length of his body...

"My reflection disgusts me," Marcus muttered, "I do not understand how it does this to you every time you see me without a sh-shirt – oh gods," he whined, as Esca had pulled open Marcus's trousers, exposing his suddenly pulsing heat to the cool dusk air.

"It is simply the knowledge that Marcus Flavius Aquila is swollen with my child in his round belly that turns my heart to a furnace," he whispered headily into his ear.

Marcus bit back a laugh, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. Esca's fetish over having actually impregnated him was something that had come to light only recently and frankly it almost made Marcus want to shove him off for being so strange but then "OhfuckohgodsyesEsca," and that deft tongue was slowly dipping in and out of his open pants as his hands roamed possessively over his stomach.

"T-take me in," he panted, eyes clenching shut as an orgasm began to churn, ache, and throb deep in his gut. But still Esca tortured him so, licking small but skilled flicks over his swollen member, barely reaching the tip before starting again at the base of his large belly.

"Es-Esca-a," he begged, feeling his hips begin to buck when the blonde suddenly ripped the pants open further and gripped him by the shaft.

"Tell me you are full Marcus, tell me you are mine," Esca whispered huskily.

Marcus shook his head, finding it ridiculous. "Esca, n-no, just – please," he panted, feeling the child start to quiver from the tension until it stretched out forcefully, making  
>his eyes jerk open with a gasp. He rubbed his stomach gently, trying to persuade their child to calm, but unable to keep his hips from bucking into Esca's grasp. His hot wet saliva was slickening him.<p>

"Tell me you are swollen and round from being fucked by me," he said again, stroking his strong and sensitive thighs. "Tell me that our strong child kicks in your full ripe belly."

"W-what?" Marcus pulled a face, somehow, despite his panting. "That is a-abso-l-lutely – just—NO," he hissed, although the throws of passion in his brain were beginning to steal logic from him altogether and he was beginning to see stars.

"Fine," Esca sighed simply, releasing him and raising up off the bed to walk toward the door, leaving Marcus a pathetically aroused, panting mess of hot desire.

Marcus gritted his teeth, and a low whine escaped him, "Esca you fucking BASTARD," he shouted, glaring daggers at him as he pathetically attempted to reach himself to finish the job... But his reach was greatly obstructed by his stomach and he yelled out in frustration. "Esca," he finally pleaded.

The blonde appeared in the doorway, a smug grin on his face, still red from the sun.

"Fine," Marcus muttered in defeat.

Esca grinned and crept back onto the bed in one fluid movement, supporting himself with one arm as he kissed Marcus deeply and attentively. "Your change of heart pleases me," he laughed, breaking off the kiss. His free hand was slowly building a rhythm around Marcus's desire. While simultaneously moving so that his own bulging groin was grinding against Marcus's thigh, he pressed his face against his lover's pregnant belly, nipping the skin slightly with his teeth.

"Go on," Esca hummed, and Marcus, would have rolled his eyes if he'd had the mental coordination to do so. But his hips were bucking again, in time with Esca who was kissing his stomach, and his talented grip was bringing him to the edge.

"Esca, you have fucked me so deeply that you've knocked me up," he panted, placing a hand on his stomach for effect. Esca's eyes rolled back slightly as a wave of desire overtook him and he grinned a possessive snarl against Marcus's belly before ducking his head lower to flick his tongue across the head of his length.

"Awugh, Gods," he hissed, throwing his head back forcefully, Esca was patiently waiting for him to continue and his mind was flooded with desire and desperacy and demand and "I have grown so full and heavy from your seed, my love, I –"

Esca took his length into his mouth for a brief moment, swallowing a few inches of it before returning his tongue to the shaft.

Marcus blinked forcefully, feeling that he was close and he had no choice but to continue. "You could fill me up to the brink, Esca, and I would... I-I would..."

"Mhmmm you would what?" he hummed as he noisily slurped his length into his hot inviting mouth again and gave it a particularly forceful suck.

"... I-I would glow with pride as others looked upon me and knew that this pregnant roundness above my hips is the result of you, my love..."

Esca suddenly took his entire length down his throat and Marcus threw his head back in bliss against the pillow, "Oh FUCK," he gasped, bucking slightly into his mouth.

"Whose are you?" Esca growled, noisily slurping and licking him. The sound was maddeningly erotic.

"I am yours," he whispered, shutting his eyes, and feeling an orgasm finally sieze him.

"And this is mine," Esca whispered back fiercely, nuzzling his nose and lips against the underside of the belly that was near his face. He wrapped one arm possessively over Marcus's stomach, drawing him closer and startling him until he slurped his entire length into his mouth, and hummed around him, knowing the vibrations would drive him mad.

Marcus swore, clenching his eyes shut and then throwing them open at the last second as colors exploded in his vision, obscuring his view of the ceiling and Esca's brilliant blue eyes looking at him as Marcus came into his mouth.

Esca then licked him clean, still grinding against his leg as Marcus fought the urge to fall asleep.

"Only you, Esca," Marcus panted, "Would make love to me being so large and uncomfortably full..."

With that Esca, held his breath, gripping his hips forcefully as he came, and then collapsed against his stomach, pressing a kiss against it.

"And only you, would be turned on by me saying that," Marcus snorted under his breath, trying to conceal his snickering.

Esca was collapsed against him, trying to catch his breath, in post-orgasmic bliss.

"Do not tease me, Marcus, I can not help it," Esca blushed, but he was grinning none the less as Marcus burst out into full on laughter.

"If I could leave you alone with my belly I would but it is, in fact, attached to me," Marcus was red faced with laughter and Esca shoved him in the shoulder.

"Fuck you," The blonde muttered. "Why were you in here anyway, my love?" he groaned as he stretched, standing from the cot. "It worries me when I cannot find you."

"If you do such things to me when you find me perhaps I should hide more often," he muttered. Marcus then sat up slowly, reaching out a hand for help to rise to his feet. Esca pulled him, with some effort that he attempted to hide, off of the cot and into a standing position.

"I was merely trying to think up some type of decoration for our son's room," Marcus shrugged honestly. "I am a soldier. I am no home maker."

"It will be grand, whatever we decide," Esca said, crossing his arms as he tried to picture where to put a bassinet. A bassinet that he still had to build.

"I merely want it to be ready in time," Marcus muttered, beginning to walk toward the kitchen.

"Oh ready it will be, my love, in fact I believe we just christened it," he muttered, pressing a kiss against his cheek as he quickly passed him to grab the kettle for dinner. Marcus reached out and swatted at him as he passed.

"I can hardly consider such a ridiculous turn of events a christening, you foul Britain," he snorted. But suddenly he shook his head, as if trying to shake off a feeling with a grimace. "I believe I need to sit down for a moment, Esca, this exhaustion is... truly... draining me tonight, especially after that escapade..."

Esca only turned to grin at him, giving him a wink before he turned his attention to the patio where he began pouring hot, delicious venison stew into two clay dishes. He grabbed two chunks of the fresh bread he'd bought from the nearest town, and set each chunk on the top of each serving of stew, and put a second bit of bread on top of his lover's portion, just to be sure he was indeed eating enough.

He called loudly over his shoulder. "Would you care for water or orange juice, Marcus? I spied a few ripe oranges on our tree this morning..."

Marcus was silent. Esca rolled his eyes.

"No need to take an attitude, I do not mean to dote," the blonde added.

Marcus was silent again.

Esca finally turned around, leaning to peer in through the house, and saw Marcus red faced and panting in a slump in front of his chair, his head lying flat against the ground.

Esca dropped the dishes to the floor where they shattered, a noise that echoed loudly into the deserted countryside.

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

**Hope you enjoyed it. You should also be pleased that I managed to navigate FFNET while intoxicated. Baaahahah.**

**-AW&HL**


	14. Chapter 14

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**CHAPTER 14/14**_**  
><strong>_

**Beyond Hurt**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N: Sorry the ending of this story took so heinously long. I suppose I also owe an apology to Marcus who I believe has been in labor for, what, five or six months? =_= Oh the shame. The important thing here is that this story is done. I do so hope you've enjoyed reading it! A special _special_ thanks to my ****wonderful editor, pen-pal, and friend: FeatherMask. You can thank her for keeping me motivated when real life got more than a little hectic.**

**_-A Wolf & Her Lion_**

xxxx

Marcus could see bright and fierce visions between the darkness that gripped him. Esca's face, stern blue eyes terrified but so steadily locked onto his. Esca was speaking but there was a howling noise obscuring whatever his lover was trying to say.

He realized then, as another pain tore through his body, that the haunting cry was his own.

xxxx

Dusk had just fallen when Flavius Aquila stepped out of his carriage. It was a warm summer night, and he could smell the air sweet with ripe oranges from the trees behind his nephew's home.

In his arm, tucked carefully away, was a parcel wrapped in silk, and on his face, was an unhideable grin.

A man opened the door and smiled, surprising him, as it was neither Esca nor Marcus.

"Flavius," He said warmly. He looked familiar, from where Flavius could not recall, but his warm greeting was appreciated nonetheless after his travels, and Flavius shook his extended hand graciously.

"Esca has not left Marcus's side and Marcus has not left the baby's side and, well," Tallius laughed softly, "The child's room is here, so I suppose we shall all manage to fit in it with him."

"Ahh, just as well, I intend to crowd uncomfortably close in any circumstance," Flavius joked, "Inspecting this miracle of a great nephew."

Flavius could hear laughter in the candle-lit hallway as the man guided him to the bedroom and finally, to a small partition just beyond it.

He could not help but hold his breath in wonder and anticipation; he had never seen a child born of man. Would he be able to tell? Would there be something acutely different about the way the child walked or spoke or moved?

But as the door slowly opened and the two men entered the small room, Flavius exhaled softly, a smile playing at his lips.

He was beautiful. Perfect even.

He was a tiny pink face cuddled against Marcus's chest, one of the soldier's large hands covering most of his body. Esca was beside Marcus, gazing proudly at his new son, with one of his long slender fingers in the baby's grip. They were huddled against each other on the cot, and as Flavius approached them, it took a long moment for the new parents to be able to steal their eyes from their son to acknowledge him.

"Hello Uncle," Marcus said softly, beaming with a soft smile. He turned his broad shoulders slightly to show off his son in Flavius's direction.

"My word Marcus," Flavius sighed happily, "To think that the toughest, sternest commander in the ninth infantry could have made such a thing..."

"Oh I believe it, Flavius," Esca snorted with a knowing look, "The toughest, sternest commander actually gave me a black eye when he was in labor."

"My love," Marcus said flatly with mock annoyance, "I have _told_ you I am sorry. It was an accident. I do not even remember the ordeal."

"Yes, my dear, but my _eye _does. It remembers quite well." The Brittan finally turned his face to Flavius directly and exposed a particularly nasty black eye that was only just beginning to heal.

Flavius bit back a grimace. "Considering that you were the one to put him into that circumstance you should perhaps be pleased that he kept the blows above the belt," he chuckled.

Marcus laughed nodding, and Esca merely grinned sheepishly.

As Flavius sat slowly on the corner of the cot, he reached out finally to touch this marvel before him.

The baby's tiny back was warm from Marcus's large protective grasp, and the tiny head of dark hair stirred slightly at the touch.

"He is truly remarkable," Flavius whispered.

"I know," Marcus replied. "If you wish to hold him, I would trust you, Uncle."

Flavius nodded happily and reached out, realizing then how particularly tiny this baby really was. As Marcus went to lift the baby slightly off of his chest, he winced, and Esca promptly stepped in, leaning to help hand the baby to him.

"It is my stitches," Marcus mumbled through a grimace.

"Have they bled at all?" Flavius asked, eyebrows furrowing into a frown. The Roman took a wavering breath, reaching tenderly with his hand to feel them through his thin shirt.

"Luckily not. It seems the Gods have decided to show me good fortune in my healing."

"After all they put you through it is the least they could do," Esca muttered, leaning in to kiss Marcus's temple as he rubbed his back gingerly.

The soldier grinned, but hadn't once removed his eyes from his baby in Flavius's careful arms.

Flavius was smiling at the sleeping face now before he frowned suddenly, looking up at the pair curiously. "How is it that you are feeding this child? I have yet to meet a wet-nurse."

Marcus's gaze ducked slightly as his arms began to cross uncomfortably and the question hung in the air awkwardly. Esca, whose face was darkening in a blush but not nearly as red as Marcus, finally cleared his throat. "We would prefer that you not ask us that, uncle, merely know that Marcus – or rather _we_ – discovered that we don't need one..." His eyes avoided Flavius's gaze until finally the older man grasped the concept and stammered an apology.

One hand nervously pulled at his beard as he stared down at the infant, wondering exactly how much his nephew intended to bend the laws of nature and hoping earnestly that he'd brought his flask with him in his satchel.

Then, with a sigh, he smiled at his great nephew. "My dear, you are teaching us much about life and love, and you are only a few days old!"

"It is true," Esca agreed. The Brittan was now staring in amusement at Marcus's wringing, nervous hands.

It was only a second later that Flavius himself noticed this and handed the newborn back to his nephew and, after a beat of silence as Marcus cradled the infant back against his chest, kissing his forehead, Flavius turned to Esca.

"Was today not the official presentation of the Eagle to the emperor?" Flavius tilted his head slightly.

Esca thought for a moment, eyes searching the rafters of the roof for a moment. "I believe it was."

"Surely you were both invited," Flavius blurted quickly.

"As guests of honor, actually," Marcus replied quietly, still looking down at the baby.

Flavius stared for a moment then sighed. "It has finally dawned on you then," he said quizzically.

Marcus grinned and turned to look at him curiously.

"It has finally dawned on you then, what Rome truly is," Flavius explained cryptically.

"A dirty, smelly city intent on taking over the world?" Esca snorted; Marcus shot him a look.

"Of what do you speak, Uncle?" Marcus asked finally, finger tips now unconsciously running along his son's tiny back.

"Rome is in your arms, Marcus. That's what you were fighting for. That is what the Eagle stands for."

Marcus smiled, looking down at his baby again. "You are right, Uncle." He then leaned to kiss Esca's jaw line and the Brittan grinned. "But this Eagle will never be lost."

xxxxxx

That night in the countryside was especially warm, and Marcus made sure to make the rounds of the house, opening the windows to let in the cross breeze that often rustled through the orange trees out back. His guests were already asleep on their cots in the spare bedroom that Esca usually used as an office.

Undoubtedly Flavius was questioning Tallius on how he performed the surgery, and Tallius, Marcus knew, would probably not reveal the real reason for his expertise. But it was not a truth that Marcus himself would ever share, either.

What man would volunteer information to make others regard him an anomaly?

His hand, for a brief moment, ghosted over his flat stomach; the emptiness he experienced in the days after his son was cut from him was residing. It was no longer strange to look down and see his feet...

He leaned, carefully as not to disturb his stitches, to latch the final set of shutters open against the side of the cottage. For a moment he stared out into the night in thought. Secrets would always be a part of their life; their son would not know the truth until he was older.

A sound, to Marcus's trained ears, made him turn in question. Wrapped in a soft cloth, tied close to Esca's bare chest, was their son, little Tallius.

"Lius," Marcus whispered; it was a nickname they had adopted in the presence of their son's name sake, Tallius senior, but perhaps it would stick, as most nicknames do.

Esca's hand gently supported their son against him, and he rubbed his back gently as Marcus leaned to glimpse his sleeping face.

"He sleeps like you do, luckily," Esca whispered. "Like a little bear. I have even heard him snore."

Marcus rolled his eyes, "I have told you many times, I do not snore."

Esca blinked, "If it is not snoring then let us say that you _purr._ You purr like a hideous wild boar would purr."

Marcus resumed opening the shutters. "I can only hope our son has your wit; I do so look forward to being ganged up on in arguments."

Esca grinned, for once unable to quip a response. He only sighed, swaying gently when his son began to stir.

As Marcus latched the last set of shutters open, he exhaled and turned back to Esca, surprised to see him frowning suddenly.

"What?" Marcus muttered, joining his side, glancing in concern at Lius.

"I must confess something to you, Marcus, that I've kept hidden a long time..."

The former soldier furrowed his brow, half smiling in curiosity at Esca's suddenly grave expression.

"Then relieve yourself of this weight on your conscience, my love," he whispered in amusement. "I am listening."

Esca stared at the tile floor for a second. "At the pagan village; the medicine woman that helped us there – the one who gave us the salve for your bruised ribs..."

"...Yes." Marcus tilted his head, eyeing him curiously.

"I told you, that she couldn't -"he paused, shifting Lius suddenly, then staring down at his light brown hair. "I told you that she couldn't bring an end to the pregnancy."

The smile had faded from Marcus's lips and he was gazing back sternly now, concerned at how upset Esca was to relay this to him.

"I lied, Marcus," he whispered. "And I hope you can forgive me. I hope you are truly happy, like you say that you are. I know you love Lius, it is merely that I feel guilt for what I did... for... for changing things so that we could give this a chance..." his eyes were red around the edges, now and his shoulders heaved in a sigh. "I lied, and said she could not help you."

Marcus exhaled a long drawn out breath, staring down at Lius. He reached out suddenly with one of his broad tan hands, and laid it on his son's warm back. "I know."

Esca's pale lips parted in surprise. "How?"

"We were in your country for nearly six months, Esca, and you think I did not learn _any_ of your language?"

The blonde stared in reply. The amused smile was back, and Marcus continued, reaching suddenly to remove Lius from the sling. "I would not attempt to speak a whole conversation with any Northerner, but I could understand that she left the decision in your hands... and I understood more that you wanted this child."

The blonde was stunned, numbly following him back toward the bedroom. He watched as Marcus tucked Lius into the bassinet by his side of the bed, within arm's reach for when he would wake and cry hungrily. All the while his jaw was still slack.

Finally he interjected, as he lay down beside Marcus to sleep. "All the guilt I have suffered for months – " he began in exasperation; Marcus cut him off.

"Esca, until you are taken captive by someone you believed to be your best friend, run as a fugitive while 6 months pregnant through the woods and sleeping on a canvas mat every night, then get shot at with bows and beaten with clubs by a hoard who wants to cut out your baby and kill you, then endure a violent 17 hour labor until someone arrives to splay you open like a deer to deliver a six pound infant... then I would wager you have not suffered."

Esca snapped his mouth shut, pursing his lips suddenly.

"Good," Marcus laughed, "You agree." With that he kissed his forehead and turned onto his side, pressing his back up against Esca's lean chest.

"If you lied about that then surely you remember giving me this black eye," came Esca's voice suddenly in the dark.

"Of course not, I told you," he said innocently.

But Esca swore he could feel him laughing in bed next to him.

_The End_


End file.
